OF 


CM.I?.  LIBUM.  LOS  ANGELES 


MRS.  A.  L.  WISTER'S 
Translations  from  the  German  of  E.  Marlitt. 

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The  Owl's  Nest $ 


The  Lady  with  the  Rubies 
The  Bailiff's  flaid  .... 

In  the  Schillingscourt  .... 

At  the  Councillor's 

The  Second  Wife 

The  Old  Ham'selle's  Secret  . 

Gold  Elsie 

Countess  Qisela 

The  Little  Hoorland  Princess 


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BOLD    ONLT  IN  SETS,  10  VOI.S.,   $10.00. 

Other  Translations. 

Countess  Erika's  Apprenticeship.  By  OssipSchubin  $ 
"OThou,  Hy  Austria  I"     By  Ussip  Schubin  .... 

Erlach  Court.     By  Ossip  Schubin 

The  Alpine  Fay.     By  E.   Werner 

Picked  Up  in  the  Streets.    By  H.  Schobert 


Saint  Hichael.     By  E.  Werner 

Violetta.     By  Ursula  Zoge  von  Manteuflfel 

Vain  Forebodings.     By  E.  Oswald  

A  Penniless  Girl.    By  W.  Heimburg 

Quicksands.     By  Adolph  Streckfuss 

Banned  and  Blessed.     By  K.  Werner 

A  Noble  Name.     By  Claire  von  Giiimer 

From  Hand  to  Hand.     By  Golo  Kaimund 

Severa.     By  E.  Hartner 

The  Elchhofs.    By  Moritz  von  Reichenbach 

A  New  Race.    By  Golo  Raimund 

Castle  Hohenwald.     By  Adolph  Sireckfuss 

n&rgarethe.     By  E.   Tuncker 

T90  Rich.     By  Adolph  Streckfus*  

A  Family  Feud.     By  Ltidwig  Harder 

The  Green  Gate.     By  Ernst  Wichert 

Only  a  Girl.     By  Wilhelmina  von  Hiliern 

Why  Did  He  Not  Die?     By  Ad.  von  Vo  ckh..usen  . 
Hulda;  or,  THIS.  DELIVERER.     By  F.  Lewald    .   .    .   . 


J.  B.  Lippincott  Company,  Publishers, 

715  and  717  Market  Street,  Philadelphia.  Pa. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST 


A  EOMANOE 


TR,.A.l:TSIj.A.TE33    ^lEtCM:    THE 
OF 

E.  MARLITT 


BY 

MRS.   A.   L.   WISTEK 


PHILADELPHIA 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

1893. 


Copyright,  1888,  by  J.  B.  Lippracorr  COMPAHT. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST. 


THE  hawthorns  and  syringas  in  the  corners  of  the 
court-yard  of  the  G-erold  estate  were  a  mass  of  bloom, 
the  water  of  the  fountain  sparkling  in  the  May  sun- 
shine plashed  noisily  in  its  stone  basin,  and  the  spar- 
rows were  chattering  on  the  roofs  of  barns  and  stables. 
It  really  seemed  that  on  this  especial  day  everything 
was  blooming  and  sparkling  and  chattering  more  loudly 
than  ever  in  the  Gorold  court-yard,  with  a  delightful 
sense  of  the  comfort  of  home,  for  the  bushes,  the  foun- 
tain, and  the  sparrows  in  their  worn  old  nests  were 
all  going  to  stay;  they  were  not  driven  hence,  as 
were  the  spiders  and  moths  from  behind  the  antique 
chests  and  cupboards  in  the  mansion  itself.  Yes,  it 
looked  forlorn  enough  in  the  house, — almost  as  if  it 
were  war-time ;  the  walls  were  so  bare,  and  there  was 
such  heaped-up  confusion  on  the  floor  of  the  dining- 
hall.  Everything  that  prudent  housewives  had  col- 
lected of  linen  and  bedroom  furniture,  all  that  their 
lords  had  gathered  together  of  household  ware,  silver, 
and  hunting  implements,  had  to  be  carried  into  that 
room,  to  be  submitted  to  the  inspection  of  coldly  scru- 
tinizing eyes,  and  afterwards  to  be  torn  asunder  and 
borne  off  to  all  quarters  of  the  world. 

1*  6 


6  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

The  monotonous  voice  of  the  auctioneer,  as  it  camo 
through  the  open  windows  of  the  hall,  sounded  as  if 
half  stifled  with  dust  from  library  shelves  and  from 
old  furniture,  and  had  in  it  something  like  insult, — 
"  No.  1 !  No.  2 1"  etc.  It  was  almost  a  wonder  that  at 
sound  of  it,  with  its  legal  twang,  some  one  of  the  stern 
old  warriors  lying  beneath  the  pavement  of  the  family 
chapel  did  not  start  up  from  his  slumber  of  centuries 
to  enter  his  protest.  Many  a  doughty  fist  was  mould- 
ering there  which,  in  its  time,  had  known  well  how  to 
maintain  by  downright  blows  its  owner's  right  to  what 
of  goods  and  gold  he  had  won,  or  perhaps  usurped. 
But  the  latest  possessor  of  Geroldscourt,  from  whom 
everything  not  nailed  to  its  place  or  built  into  the 
walls  was  now  being  dragged  away,  had  gentler  blood 
in  his  veins.  He  was  a  tall,  handsome  man,  with  a 
hrow  at  once  lined  and  ennobled  by  thought  and  study. 

lie  was  sitting  at  present  in  his  quiet  back  room,  in 
the  corner  where  the  syringas  grew  high  above  the 
windows.  At  every  breath  of  wind  the  white  blos- 
soms tapped  lightly  on  the  panes;  the  closed  win- 
dows shut  out  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the  auction- 
room,  whence  only  an  isolated  sound  now  and  then 
reached  this  secluded  apartment. 

Herr  von  Gerold  was  writing  at  a  pine  table,  which 
had  magnanimously  been  left  to  him  from  the  house- 
hold furniture.  It  was  apparently  of  no  consequence 
to  him  that  his  manuscript  lay  scattered  on  the  scoured 
boards  of  a  kitchen  table ;  his  mind,  abstracted  from 
the  outer  world,  was  absorbed  in  abstruse  problems, 
while  his  hand  traced  small  running  characters  on 
the  paper;  only  when  the  syringa-blossoms  brushed 
the  window-panes  persistently  did  his  look  grow  more 
conscious,  and  become  illuminated  with  something  like 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  7 

loving  joy  in  the  childish  face  upon  which  his  eyes 
rested  as  he  suddenly  lifted  them. 

For  there  was  some  one  besides  himself  in  the  room, 
— a  pretty,  fair-haired  little  girl,  who  had  established 
herself  in  a  corner  by  the  window.  The  little  thing 
was  as  completely  wrapped  up  in  her  playthings  as  the 
writer  was  in  his  manuscript.  She  had  gathered  to- 
gether in  her  corner  all  that  belonged  to  her,  and  to  her 
only, — the  beautiful  painted  porcelain  tea-set  which  the 
kind  Princess  had  sent  her,  and  all  her  dolls.  Gorgeous 
ladies  in  trains,  as  well  as  the  crying  babies,  had  come 
at  Christmas  and  on  her  birthday,  packed  in  long 
boxes,  and  each  time  Aunt  Claudine  had  addressed 
them  on  the  covers  herself,  '  To  little  Elizabeth  von 
Gerold;'  papa  had  always  read  it  off  to  her. 

Little  Elizabeth  was  now  seated  in  the  midst  of  her 
possessions  as  in  a  nest,  her  youngest  baby  in  her  arms, 
and  her  large  blue  eyes  riveted  anxiously  upon  the 
door  by  which  the  '  horrid  men'  had  a  little  while 
before  carried  away  the  last  pictures  and  the  tall  clock. 

She  patted  her  doll,  but  otherwise  sat  still  as  a  little 
mouse ;  papa  always  looked  so  worried  when  she  dis- 
turbed him  in  his  writing.  Not  a  sound  came  from 
her  lips,  when  suddenly  the  dreaded  door  was  noise- 
lessly opened ;  the  doll  slipped  down  from  her  lap, 
the  plump  little  creature  arose  from  her  basket-chair, 
and  tripped  across  the  room  as  fast  as  her  legs  could 
carry  her, — to  lift  her  arms,  her  little  face  beaming 
with  delight  the  while,  towards  the  lady  who  had 
entered. 

Ah,  she  had  come,  Aunt  Claudine, — her  beautiful 
aunt, — whom  she  loved  a  thousand  times  better  than 
she  had  ever  loved  Fraulein  Duval,  her  governess,  who 
had  kept  saying  to  the  other  people  in  the  house,  --Fi 


g  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

done!  such  a,pauvre  house  is  no  place  for  Claire  Duval," 
and  who,  before  she  left,  had  not  been  kind  and  polite 
to  papa.  Now  she  had  gone,  and  the  child  had  rubbed 
away  from  her  cheek  the  cold,  disagreeable  kiss  Frau- 
lein  Duval  had  given  her.  This  was  very  different. 
Two  soft  arms  lifted  her  up,  and  a  sweet  mouth  kissed 
her  tenderly.  And  then  the  young  lady  glided  across 
the  floor  as  noiselessly  as  she  had  entered,  except  for 
the  soft  rustle  of  her  dark  silk  dress,  and  laid  her  hand 
upon  the  shoulder  of  the  writer  at  the  table. 

"  Joachim,"  she  said,  in  a  sweet,  gentle  voice,  stooping 
to  look  into  his  face. 

He  started  to  his  feet..  "Ah,  Claudine!"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  Little  sister,  dear  child,  you  ought  not  to 
be  here !  You  see,  I  can  bear  it  easily, — I  have  already 
got  over  it;  but  it  will  pain  you  terribly,  all  this  deso- 
lation, this  scattering  to  the  four  winds,  of  everything 
dear  to  you !  Poor,  poor  child  I  How  grieved  I  am  to 
see  your  eyes  filled  with  tears  1" 

"  Only  a  tear  or  two,  Joachim,"  she  said,  with  a 
smile,  although  her  voice  trembled.  "  Old  Dobbin  is 
to  blame  for  them, — our  old  letter-carrier,  who  brought 
us  our  mail  every  morning  1  Only  think,  the  poor  old 
brute  knew  me,  as  he  was  led  past  me  just  now " 

"  Yes,  and  Peter  is  gone,  aunt,"  said  little  Elizabeth  ; 
"  he  is  not  coming  back ;  and  the  carriage  is  gone, 
and  papa  must  run  to  the  Owl's  Nest." 

"  No,  he  need  not  run,  darling,  for  I  have  brought  a 
carriage  with  me,"  said  Aunt  Claudine,  the  consoler. 
"  I  will  not  take  off  my  wrap,  Joachim " 

"  Indeed,  I  cannot  ask  you  to  in  this  house ;  I  can- 
not even  offer  you  any  refreshment.  The  cook  pre- 
pared our  last  soup  at  noon  to-day,  and  then  left  for 
her  new  situation.  Oh,  I  hoped  you  would  be  spared 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  9 

the  knowledge  of  all  this !  You  will  have  hard  work, 
dear,  to  forget  it  when  you  return  to  court." 

She  shook  her  head  gently.  "  I  am  not  going  back 
to  the  court.  I  am  going  to  stay  with  you,"  she  de- 
clared. 

He  started.  "  What ! — with  me  ?  To  share  my  poor 
crust?  Never,  Claudine,  never  1"  He  stretched  out 
his  hand  as  if  to  thrust  her  away.  "  Our  beautiful 
swan — the  delight  of  our  eyes,  the  joy  of  all  hearts — 
fade  away  in  the  Owl's  Nest  ?  What  do  you  take  me 
for,  to  dream  that  I  should  allow  such  a  thing ?  /go 
back  gladly,  and  light  of  heart,  to  the  old  house, — your 
house,  your  inheritance,  which  you  have  so  generously 
placed  at  my  disposal.  It  will  wear  a  face  of  kindliest 
welcome  to  me,  for  I  have  my  work,  which  transfigures 
everything,  and  sweetens  frugal  fare,  and  gilds  the  old 
walls ;  but  you, — you  ?" 

"  I  knew  what  you  would  say,  and  took  the  matter 
into  my  own  hands,"  she  said,  firmly,  looking  at  him 
with  eyes  that  beamed  with  affection  beneath  their 
long  lashes.  "  I  know  that  you  do  not  need  me,  quiet, 
contented  hermit  that  you  are,  but  what  is  to  become 
of  your  little  Elizabeth  ?" 

He  looked  in  a  kind  of  terror  at  the  child,  who,  in 
preparation  for  departure,  was  trying  to  put  over  her 
shoulders  a  little  round  calico  cape,  such  as  the  Thu- 
ringian  peasant  women  wear.  "  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer 
is  there,"  he  said,  with  hesitation. 

"Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  was  grandmamma's  faith- 
ful waiting-maid,  and  has  all  her  life  been  as  good, 
as  gold ;  but  she  is  old  and  gray  now,  and  we  never 
could  intrust  the  child  to  her.  And  what  could  the 
sentimental  old  creature  teach,  do  you  think?"  she 
went  on  eagerly,  while  a  melancholy  smile  stole  over 


10  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

his  features.  "  No,  let  me  atone  for  my  error.  I  ought 
not  to  have  gone  to  my  dear  old  Princess ;  I  ought  to 
have  refused  the  position  at  court,  and  have  done  my 
best  to  stem  the  tide  of  ruin  here.  Affairs  looked 
gloomy  enough  at  Geroldscourt  long  ago,  before " 

"  Before  your  brother  most  foolishly  brought  home  a 
spoiled  wife  from  Spain,  who  pined  away  for  years  in 
the  German  climate,  until  the  angel  of  deliverance  bore 
her  away  from  a  world  of  suffering, — eh,  Claudine  ?" 
he  completed  her  sentence,  with  a  bitter  sigh.  "  And 
he  was,  besides,  no  agriculturist,  but  a  useless  fellow, 
who  studied  the  flowers  of  the  field  with  his  micro- 
scope, delighted  in  their  beauty,  and  forgot  that  they 
were  weeds  that  spoiled  good  pasturage.  Yes,  it  is 
true,  the  estate  could  not  have  fallen  into  worse  hands 
than  mine,  but  am  I  entirely  to  blame  ?  Is  it  my  fault 
that  there  is  in  me  no  drop  of  the  peasant  blood  which 
assimilated  so  well  with  the  blue  current  that  flowed 
in  the  veins  of  our  ancestors  ?  The  plough  won  most 
of  the  G-erold  wealth  now  scattered  to  the  winds,  but 
1  must  hang  my  head  before  the  merest  village  day- 
labourer  who  cultivates  his  patch  of  potatoes  in  the 
sweat  of  his  brow.  I  carry  hence  nothing  save  my 
pen  and  a  handful  of  petty  coins,  which  must  provide 
my  child  and  myself  with  bread  until  my  manuscript 
shall  be  finished  and  sold.  That  is  why  I  am  writing 
with  such  feverish  haste " 

He  paused,  and  with  a  bitter  smile  laid  his  hands  on 
the  young  lady's  shoulders.  "  Yes,  my  darling  sister, 
we  two — the  two  last — are  the  ducks  which  that  re- 
spectable domestic  fowl,  the  ancient  Gerold  line,  has 
hatched  out  at  the  close  of  its  long  earthly  career.  As 
children,  we  instinctively  sought  another  element, — I, 
the  '  dreamer/  a  student  and  star-gazer,  and  you,  the 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  11 

nightingale  with  golden  throat,  a  vision  of  grace  and 
elegance.  And  now  you  come  to  the  absent-minded 
bookworm  that  I  am  grown  to  be,  and  would  fain  creep 
with  him  into  the  Owl's  Nest."  He  shook  his  head 
decidedly.  "  You  shall  not  cross  the  threshold  of  the 
old  house,  Claudine !  Drive  home  again  1  My  legs 
are  grown  stiff,  crouched  up  here  in  this  corner  to  be 
out  of  the  way  of  all  the  bustle ;  a  walk  to  the  Owl's 
Nest  will  do  them  good,  and  Friedrich,  our  faithful  old 
Friedrich,  will  carry  the  child  if  she  gets  tired.  And 
now  a  brief  farewell,  Claudine." 

He  opened  his  arms  to  embrace  his  sister  in  bid- 
ding her  farewell,  but  she  eluded  them.  "How  do 
you  know  that  I  can  go  back?"  she  asked,  gravely. 
"I  requested  my  dismissal,  and  my  request  has  been 
granted.  My  dear  old  Princess  understood  me,  and, 
without  asking  a  single  question,  knows  exactly  how 
matters  stand.  Be  as  discreet  as  she  has  been,  Joachim," 
— a  flood  of  crimson  dyed  her  cheeks, — "  and  silently 
accept  the  fact  that  there  is  another  reason  for  my 
coming  home  besides  my  desire  to  be  with  you.  Take 
me  as  I  come  to  you,  with  my  lips  closed,  but  with  my 
heart  filled  with  faithful,  sisterly  aifection,  will  you  not?" 

He  drew  her  towards  him  without  a  word,  and  kissed 
her  forehead. 

She  sighed  as  if  relieved.  "  We  shall  have  frugal 
fare,"  she  went  on,  with  a  gentle  smile,  "  but  it  will  be 
our  own.  The  Princess  insists  upon  continuing  my 
salary,  and  my  grandmother's  legacy  yields  some  yearly 
income.  We  shall  certainly  not  starve,  and  there  will 
be  no  need  in  future  for  you  to  write  with  '  feverish 
haste.'  No,  that  I  will  not  have.  You  shall  com- 
plete your  precious  work  in  peace  and  serenity,  for 
your  own  amusement.  And  now  let  us  begone." 


12  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

She  looked  around  the  bare  room,  and  her  eyes  rested 
upon  a  small  trunk. 

"  Yes,  that  is  everything  that  I  have  a  legal  right  to 
call  mine,"  said  Herr  von  Gerold,  following  her  eyes. 
"  Not  much  more  than  the  last  representative  of  the 
Gerolds  unconsciously  laid  claim  to  when  he  first  ap- 
peared in  the  world, — necessary  clothes  for  his  person. 
And  yet,  no! — what  base  ingratitude!"  He  struck 
his  forehead,  and  there  was  a  happy  gleam  in  his  eyes. 
"  Such  a  strange  thing,  Claudine  !  Think !  Do  you 
know  of  any  friend  of  our  family  who  could  put  his 
right  hand  into  his  pocket  and  give  away  a  couple  of 
thousand  thalers  without  letting  his  left  know  anything 
about  it  ?  Rack  my  memory  as  I  will,  I  know  no  one 
who  could  and  would  do  it ;  no  one  in  the  world  ! 
Yesterday  various  chests  were  deposited  in  the  next 
room, — chests  which  those  who  brought  them  said 
belonged  to  me,  and  which  had  been  withdrawn  from 
the  auction  by  an  agent  of  mine  whom  I  had  em- 
powered to  do  so — I,  beggar  that  I  am !  I  think  I 
laughed  in  the  men's  faces.  But  they  left,  and  abso- 
lutely refused  to  carry  the  chests  away.  They  contained 
my  books,  Claudine,  my  valuable  little  library,  which 
it  had  broken  my  heart  to  see  tossed  into  baskets 
by  profane  hands  to  be  taken  to  the  auction-room, — 
my  beloved  books,  faithful  companions  of  ray  solitude ! 
Whoever  rescued  them  from  shipwreck  ought  to  know 
that  he  has  given  back  to  me  the  very  breath  of  my 
intellectual  life,  a  sure  staff  for  a  wanderer  in  the 
desert,  for  which  may  he  be  thrice  blessed!  You 
cannot  guess,  can  you,  Claudine,  who  it  is?  Give  it 
up;  we  neither  of  us  can  solve  that  riddle." 

He  put  up  his  manuscript  in  the  portfolio  lying  ready 
for  it,  and  Claudine  packed  up  Elizabeth's  treasures  in 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  13 

a  basket,  assisted  in  her  task  by  the  child's  small,  chubby 
hands. 

Ten  minutes  later  this  last  asylum  was  deserted,  and 
Herr  von  Gerold  was  walking  along  the  corridor  with 
his  sister  leaning  on  his  arm  and  his  child's  hand  in  his. 

A  handsomer  couple  could  scarcely  be  imagined  than 
this  brother  and  sister,  hastening  for  the  last  time,  and 
with  downcast  looks,  through  their  ancestral  home,  the 
nest  which  had  been  added  to  and  decorated  by  the 
Gerolds  for  centuries,  and  of  which  strange  birds  had 
now  taken  possession, — birds  with  golden  feathers ;  for 
the  estate  had  been  bought  by  some  unknown  man  for  a 
rery  high  price. 


On  the  staircase  they  came  upon  a  lady  on  her  way 
from  the  wing  where  the  auction  was  going  on.  She 
was  carefully  holding  up  the  skirt  of  her  brown  gown, 
muttering  in  evident  displeasure  as  she  did  so,  for  the 
dust  lay  thick  upon  the  stairs,  which  had  been  ignorant 
of  broom  or  brush  during  all  these  last  days  of  bustle 
and  confusion.  She  flushed  with  dismay  when,  looking 
up,  she  saw  the  pair  before  her. 

"  Beg  pardon,"  she  said,  in  a  deep,  harsh  voice,  re- 
treating as  she  spoke.  "  I  am  blocking  the  way." 

Herr  von  Gerold  looked  for  a  moment  as  if  it  were 
upon  his  lips  to  say,  "  Must  I  drink  this  cup,  too,  to  the 
dregs?"  But  he  controlled  himself,  and  replied  with  a 
courteous  inclination,  "  The  way  out  of  this  house  is 
only  too  open ;  a  little  delay  should  be  welcome  to  us." 

"  The  dirt  on  this  staircase  is  terrible, — positively 
shocking!"  the  lady  declared,  as  if  she  had  not  heard 
his  reply,  as  she  shook  her  skirts.  "  I  never  go  to  auc- 
tions, chiefly  because  you  are  sure  to  inhale  such  quan- 

2 


14  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

titles  of  ancient  dust  !  But  Lothar  gave  me  no  peace  ; 
he  wrote  to  me  twice  that  I  must  drive  over  here  to 
secure  the  silver  set.  He  will  be  surprised  ;  they  ran 
it  up  to  an  unheard-of  sum."  All  this  was  rattled  forth 
with  cheeks  alternately  pale  and  flushed,  and  eyes  all 
the  while  fixed  upon  the  edges  of  her  profaned  skirts. 

"  For  grandmamma's  sake  I  am  grateful  to  your 
brother  for  the  purchase,  Beata  ;  she  set  great  store  by 
the  old  heirlooms,"  said  Claudine. 

"  What  else  could  he  do  ?  "We  have  the  other  half 
of  the  set,  and  could  not  consent  to  have  our  crest 
stuck  up  in  some  pawnbroker's  window,"  the  lady  re- 
joined, with  a  shrug.  "  But  were  you  not  the  right 
one,  Claudine,  to  buy  in  the  silver  for  your  grand- 
mother's sake?  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  she  left  you 
some  thousands  of  thalers  for  that  special  purpose." 

"  Yes,  '  some  provision  for  a  rainy  day,'  as  the  will 
said.     My  practical  grandmother  would  have  been  the 
first  to  blame  me  if  I  had  spent  it  upon  silver,  with  no  - 
bread  in  the  cupboard." 

"  No  bread  I  You,  Claudine  ?  you,  the  proud,  spoiled 
lady-in-waiting  1" 

"  Was  I  ever  proud  ?"  She  shook  her  head  with  a 
charming  smile.  "  And  spoiled  ?  Well,  yes,  that  may 
be.  One  does  not  learn  to  work  at  court." 

"You  never  knew  how  to  do  it  before,  Claudine," 
the  lady  blurted  out,  —  "  that  is  -  "  She  tried  to  find 
words  in  which  to  explain,  but  failed. 

"  Go  on  ;  you  are  right,"  said  Claudine,  with  com- 
posure. "  The  kind  of  work  to  which  you  allude  is 
not  learned  at  school  either.  But  I  am  going  to  begin 
now;  I  am  going  to  keep  house  in  my  old  Owl's 


"  You  do  not  mean 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  15 

"That  I  am  going  to  stay  with  Joachim?  I  cer- 
tainly do.  Is  he  not  in  more  need  than  ever  of  affec- 
tion and  sisterly  devotion  ?"  She  clung  closer  to  her 
brother's  arm  and  looked  lovingly  up  at  him. 

The  lady's  rather  pale  face  flushed  crimson,  and, 
hastily  stooping,  she  would  have  patted  little  Eliza- 
beth's cheek,  but  the  child  avoided  her  touch  and  looked 
at  her  askance  with  distrust.  "  Go  away !"  she  said, 
crossly. 

Herr  von  Gerold  looked  displeased. 

"  Oh,  let  the  little  thing  alone !  I  am  used  to  having 
children  dislike  me,"  the  lady  said,  with  a  hard,  em- 
barrassed laugh,  holding  her  hand  protectingly  over 
the  little  blond  head.  "  All  I  meant  to  say  was" — 
she  turned  again  to  Claudine — "that  you  will  have 
hard  work  at  first ;  one  need  only  look  at  your  hands 
to  see  that.  And  then  your  elegance !  You'll  spoil 
dresses  enough  before  you  learn  to  put  on  a  linen  apron 

and  cook  a  decent  dinner, — that  is "  Again  she  tried 

to  correct  herself,  as  she  glanced  hurriedly  at  the  down- 
cast eyes  of  the  beautiful  girl.  "  Beg  pardon,  child,  I 
mean  no  harm ;  I  only  wanted  to  offer  you  one  of  my 
maids  for  a  while.  My  servants  are  well  trained " 

"Every  one  knows  that.  Your  fame  as  a  house- 
keeper has  spread  far  beyond  the  boundaries  of  Ge- 
roldscourt,"  Herr  von  Gerold  interposed,  not  without 
sarcasm.  "  But  we  must  decline  your  offer  with  thanks. 
You  will  easily  understand  that  we  can  keep  no  ser- 
vants. However  my  sister  may  perform  her  difficult 
task,  I  shall  be  content  and  inexpressibly  grateful. 
She  will  always  be  my  guardian  angel,  even  although 
she  does  not  cook  me  a  '  decent  dinner'  at  first." 

"With  graceful  courtesy  he  lifted  his  hat  and  passed 
down  the  staircase,  while  the  lady  silently  followed 


16  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

the  party;  her  own  carriage  was  waiting  before  the 
door. 

Meanwhile,  old  Friedrich,  the  former  coachman,  had 
taken  down  the  trunk,  and  now  passed  his  master  with 
the  basket  of  toys  on  his  arm.  The  little  girl  listened 
anxiously  to  the  clatter  of  the  porcelain  dishes  as  the 
old  man  walked  by,  and  stood  on  tiptoe  to  peep  at  her 
possessions,  among  which  one  venturesome  doll  was 
very  near  toppling  over  the  side  of  the  basket.  Frau- 
lein  Beata  put  out  her  hand  hastily  over  the  child's 
head  to  catch  the  offender. 

"Don't  touch  my  Lena  with  your  great  big  hands!" 
the  child  screamed,  clutching  the  lady's  skirts. 

"  Ah,  poor  little  thing !  are  you  disciplining  it  al- 
ready?" Fraulein  Beata  said,  with  a  laugh,  when  Clau- 
dine.  startled,  put  her  hand  over  the  little  girl's  mouth. 
"  Why  should  she  not  tell  the  truth  ?  My  hands  are 
large,  and  all  the  fine  speeches  in  the  world  will  not 
make  them  smaller.  And  one  can  see  at  a  glance  how 
clumsy  they  must  be  at  all  delicate  work.  The  child 
protests  against  them  as  our  schoolmates  used  to  do, — 
you  remember  it  well,  Claudine.  I  am  not  an  attrac- 
tive person  to  my  fellow-beings." 

With  an  awkward  inclination  she  passed  down  the 
last  stairs  and  stood  in  the  door-way  beckoning  to  her 
carriage.  Her  figure  was  fine  and  strongty  built,  but 
her  movements  were  angular  and  ungraceful,  and  the 
tanned  face  beneath  bands  of  hair  smoothed  back  be- 
hind the  ears  did  not  soften  the  unloveliness  of  the 
impression  she  produced. 

Herr  von  Gerold  recoiled  shyly  as  he  stepped  out- 
side the  door,  and  would  fain  have  taken  refuge  in  the 
darkest  corner  of  the  court-yard.  Noise  and  confusion 
were  odious  to  him,  and  here,  in  the  open  space  before 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  17 

the  house,  there  was  a  throng  and  a  hurrying  to  and 
fro  as  at  some  fair.  On  one  hand  the  plush  furniture 
of  his  former  drawing-room  was  being  piled  upon  a 
wagon ;  on  another,  women  were  dragging  away  feather 
beds ;  kitchen  utensils  were  being  packed  clattering 
into  barrels,  while  the  prices  paid  for  the  various 
articles  were  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  with  an 
accompaniment  of  laughter  or  of  grumbling  as  the 
buyer  was  satisfied  or  the  reverse. 

Fortunately,  the  hired  carriage  in  which  Claudine 
had  arrived  was  near  the  door.  The  party  entered 
it  quickly.  Friedrich  put  the  basket  of  playthings 
on  the  front  seat,  closed  the  door  with  a  sad,  last 
glance,  and  away  rolled  the  vehicle,  past  all  the  fa- 
miliar possessions  upon  which  the  blue  skies  of  spring 
looked  down,  past  all  the  empty  stables  and  stalls, 
past  blooming  flower-beds,  and  leaping  fountains,  and 
the  velvet  lawn  of  the  orchard  on  which  the  white 
blossoms  lay  like  snow.  Then  the  bright  line  of  the 
high-road  lay  between  the  meadows  and  fields  of 
the  estate  until  it  was  shaded  by  woods  on  either 
hand ;  thence  a  branch  road  led  away  into  the  sun- 
shine, and  along  it  rolled  the  glistening  and  elegant 
equipage  in  which  Friiulein  Beata  von  G-erold  was 
driving  home. 

"  Must  she  too  cross  your  path  to-day  ?"  Herr  von 
Gerold  said  to  his  sister,  looking  angrily  after  the  re- 
treating carriage. 

"She  did  me  no  harm,  Joachim.  I  know  her  well, 
and  I  do  not  dislike  her  as  some  people  do,"  Clau- 
dine rejoined.  She  had  taken  little  Elizabeth  on  her 
lap,  and  her  face  was  so  hidden  in  the  child's  thick, 
fair  curls  that  she  was  spared  the  last  sad  look  at 
all  she  left  behind.  "  Beata  is  blunt  to  rudeness,  and 
b  2* 


18  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

apparently  careless  of  the  feelings  of  others,  but  it  is 
the  result  of  embarrassment " 

"  Nonsense,  child !  She  is  not  kind,  this  Beata  of 
yours.  She  has  no  heart,  and  nothing  of  the  spirit  I 
so  adore  in  woman.  That  ideal  elevation  of  thought, 
that  charming  sensibility  which  emanated  all  uncon- 
sciously from  my  poor  Dolores,  and  with  which  you 
beguile  me  again  to-day,  beggared  though  I  be, — there 
is  not  an  atom  of  it  in  that  barbarous  creature." 

The  light  parasol  of  the  '  barbarous  creature'  emerged 
once  more  into  the  sunshine  from  the  shrubbery  on 
the  side  of  the  road,  and  then  vanished  behind  the 
beech-trees  on  the  outskirts  of  the  strip  of  woodland 
that  marked  the  boundary  of  the  estate  of  Gerolds- 
court. 

On  the  farther  side  of  this  strip,  among  the  moun  • 
tains,  there  was  another  manor-house,  an  unornamented 
modern  structure,  with  walls  painted  a  light  color,  and 
white,  rolling  blinds.  There  were  no  fountains  playing 
there,  and  but  few  flowers,  but  in  wealth  of  trees  the 
estate  was  unrivalled.  Gigantic  old  lindens  wove  a 
green  net-work  above  court-yard  and  mansion, — the 
front  of  the  house  alone  was  unshaded, — and  about  the 
beautiful  dove-cot  in  the  centre  of  the  spacious  lawn  the 
breath  of  spring  and  the  golden  sunlight  played  freely. 

This  estate  was  also  a  Geroldscourt,  the  inheritance 
of  the  lords  of  Gerold-Neuhaus.  In  ancient  times 
the  estates  lying  in  the  spacious  Paulinenthal  and  the 
huge  forests  climbing  thence  up  the  mountain-sides 
had  all  been  united  under  one  rule.  The  Gerolds  von 
Altenstein  had  held  sway  over  the  life  and  death  of 
every  creature  that  moved  and  breathed  for  miles 
around  ;  over  the  peasant  behind  his  plough,  the  game 
in  the  forests,  the  scaly  tribes  in  river  and  lake. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  19 

Later,  rather  more  than  two  hundred  years  since,  a 
certain  Benno  von  Gerold,  returning  victor  from  a 
bloody  feud,  had  celebrated  the  birth  of  a  second  son, 
born  to  him  in  his  old  age,  by  dividing  the  estate  of 
Altenstein  between  his  last-born  and  his  first-born  ; 
this  was  the  origin  of  the  Neuhaus  line.  For  a  long 
time  it  was  the  less  wealthy  and  influential  branch; 
but  then  various  rich  heiresses  married  into  it,  and 
single  members  of  it  distinguished  themselves  in  battle. 
Their  successors,  trading  upon  their  reputation,  gradu- 
ally rose  to  high  offices  in  the  state,  and  the  family  had 
finally  attained  the  loftiest  position  by  the  union  of 
the  youngest  and  handsomest  of  its  members  with  a 
Princess  of  the  reigning  house. 

Fraulein  Beata  von  Gerold  certainly  had  a  right  to 
drive  home  complacently  in  her  well-appointed  equi- 
page, for  she  was  the  only  sister  of  this  same  '  youngest 
and  handsomest'  member,  and,  young  as  she  was,  she 
was  in  his  absence  the  sole  mistress  and  manager  of 
the  old  estate.  And  she  understood  thoroughly  how 
to  rule  and  to  manage,  as  had  all  her  predecessors  of 
her  sex.  To  put  her  own  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  to 
rise  early,  to  have  a  sharp  eye  everywhere,  even  in 
the  darkest  nook  of  the  house,  to  be  as  it  were  om- 
nipresent, had  been  the  rule  of  all  who  had  reigned 
at  Neuhaus.  The  villagers  declared  that  it  was  not 
so  very  long  since  the  ancient  spinning-wheel  with 
its  worn  treadle  had  whirred  monotonously  day  after, 
day  during  the  winter  at  the  window  of  the  living/ 
room,  or  since  the  strips  of  homespun  linen  had  lain 
stretched  across  the  sunny  bleaching-ground  in  the 
summer.  Such  industry  and  a  strict  rule  in  dairy 
and  storehouse  had  principally  contributed  to  the 
wealth  of  the  family ;  at  least  so  the  people  in  the 


20  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

village  asserted,  and  their  assertion  was  not  without 
foundation. 

The  Altensteins,  whose  last  scions  we  have  seen 
leaving  their  ancestral  home  in  a  hired  conveyance, 
could  also  look  back  upon  a  long  line  of  industrious, 
thrifty  housewives,  who  had  failed  in  no  duty,  but  the 
estate  lay  lower  than  Neuhaus,  and  of  late  years  an 
unhappy  fate  had  repeatedly  decreed  that  the  entire 
Paulinenthal  should  be  visited  by  terrific  tempests. 
In  an  hour  the  low-lying  lands  had  been  deluged  with 
freshets  from  the  mountains  and  flooded  by  the  swollen 
river,  all  hope  of  the  harvest  destroyed,  and  the  land 
laid  waste  for  years  to  come.  Thus,  in  spite  of  industry 
and  energy,  the  downward  course  had  begun. 

And  these  blows  of  destiny  had  fallen  in  the  life- 
time of  a  man  who  united  in  his  person  all  the  charac- 
teristic virtues  of  his  race, — ability  as  a  landed  pro- 
prietor, the  courage  of  a  soldier,  loyalty  and  devotion 
to  his  sovereign.  Yes,  Colonel  von  Gerold  was  a  worthy 
representative  of  his  ancient  line.  He  had,  however, 
wandered  into  one  dark  path  which  his  predecessors 
had  shunned, — the  passion  for  play  had  possessed  him. 
He  had  spent  long  nights  at  the  gaming-table,  and  had 
sacrificed  huge  sums  there.  As  tempests  had  ravaged 
his  ancestral  soil,  so  this  vice  had  laid  waste  the  old 
family  strong-boxes,  which  for  centuries  had  held  safely 
locked  within  them  glittering  treasures,  valuable  deeds 
and  documents.  This  ruinous  career  had  been  cut  short 
by  the  bullet  of  a  comrade,  whom  the  colonel  had  chal- 
lenged in  consequence  of  a  quarrel  at  the  gaming- 
table ;  the  feverish  existence  was  suddenly  extinguished, 
—'just  at  the  right  time,'  people  said,  but  they  were 
mistaken, — there  was  little  more  to  lose. 

The  brimming  eyes  of  the  lovely  maid  of  honour 


THE  OWL'S  NEST,  21 

rested  upon  the  face  of  her  brother  with  its  '  pale  cast 
of  thought'  as  he  sat  beside  her.  Gradually  it  was 
informed  by  an  expression  of  serene  content.  Yes,  this 
dreamer  and  star-gazer,  as  he  called  himself,  had  been 
summoned,  to  save  all  that  could  be  saved,  from  Spain, 
where  he  was  residing  when  the  terrible  catastrophe 
occurred.  He,  however,  could  do  nothing,  more  es- 
pecially as  the  young  wife  whom  he  brought  with 
him,  the  delicate  Andalusian,  opened  her  beautiful  eyes 
wide  with  dismay  at  the  bare  idea  of  undertaking  to 
play  the  part  of  a  German  housewife.  Consequently 
her  husband  had  lived  for  her  alone,  and  had  exhausted 
his  last  sources  of  income  to  preserve  for  her  the  illu- 
sion of  the  wealth  of  the  family,  until  finally  the 
angel  of  deliverance  had  freed  her  from  earthly  pain, 
when  he  had  resigned  himself  placidly  to  the  ruin  of 
his  fortune. 

Claudine  heard  him  breathe  a  long  sigh  of  relief. 
She  followed  the  direction  of  his  gaze.  Ah,  yes,  there 
above  the  forest  rose  the  dark  gray  shaft  of  the  tower. 
There  lay  the  Owl's  Nest,  the  protecting  roof  that 
was  to  shelter  them.  How  they  had  smiled  at  court 
when  Claudine  had  expended  all  her  savings  in  repair- 
ing and  keeping  in  order  her  grandmother's  legacy  to 
her !  And  now  it  returned  her  a  blessing. 

She  could  retire  here  to  the  green  and  peaceful 
shade  of  its  trees  from  the  heated  atmosphere  of  the 
court.  Yes,  here  she  was  at  home.  Home!  what  a 
soothing  influence  the  word  exerted  after  all  the  dis- 
tress and  agitation  of  the  last  few  months !  And  he 
who  sat  beside  her  need  not  live  in  a  hired  dwelling; 
he  would  still  be  upon  Gerold  soil,  even  though  it  were 
only  a  woodland  nook  on  the  extreme  border  of  the 
former  estate.  Heie  had  been  the  site,  in  days  long 


22  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

gone  by,  of  the  convent  "Walpurgiszella,  close  upon  the 
dividing  line  between  the  two  Geroldscourts.  The  con- 
vent had  been  built  by  a  pious  and  sorely-tried  ances- 
tress of  the  family,  and  had  been  partly  destroyed  in 
the  Peasant  War.  The  land  with  which  the  Gerolds 
had  endowed  the  founder  had  then  reverted  to  them, 
and  the  smaller  portion,  with  the  ruined  structure,  had 
fallen  to  the  share  of  the  Neuhaus  branch.  They  had 
cared  very  little  for  it,  allowing  the  ruins  to  fall  still 
further  to  decay,  and  time  and  tempest  had  been  left 
to  wear  and  crumble  it  as  they  might.  One  wing  only, 
where  the  nuns'  parlour  had  formerly  been,  was  kept  in 
tolerable  preservation  to  accommodate  a  forester.  The 
entire  place  had  been  somewhat  of  a  burden  to  its  pos- 
sessors, and  they  were  quite  willing  at  a  later  period  to 
make  it  over  to  an  Altenstein,  the  grandfather  of  these 
last  Gerold-Altensteins,  in  exchange  for  a  bit  of  meadow- 
land.  'A  ridiculously  romantic  whim,'  had  been  their 
verdict  when  the  Altenstein  in  question  told  them  that 
his  wife  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  picturesque  spot. 
He  had  made  it  over  to  this  dearly -loved  wife,  and  thus 
the  Owl's  Nest  had  become  the  property  of  Claudine's 
grandmother. 

The  lofty  southern  portal  of  the  former  convent 
chapel  soon  came  in  sight.  The  huge  round  of  the 
window  in  the  blackened  wall  was  filled  in  with  a 
broken  rosette,  the  delicate  stone  tracery  showing 
almost  like  a  cobweb  against  the  vivid  spring  green  of 
the  trees  behind  it.  Yes,  old  Frau  von  Gerold  had 
formerly  expended  all  her  savings  in  preserving  this 
picturesque  corner  of  the  earth  from  further  decay. 
Not  a  stone  had  fallen  away  from  the  ruined  church 
for  years,  and  the  remaining  wing  had  been  converted 
into  a  habitable  refuge, — the  dower-house  of  the  old 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  23 

Frau.  There  she  had  dwelt  after  her  husband's  death, 
and  had  filled  with  the  loveliest  flowers  the  mossy  pre- 
cincts of  the  ancient  convent, — the  Walpurgis  church 
yard,  as  the  peasants  called  it. 

Old  Heinemann,  for  years  chief  gardener  at  Gerolds- 
court,  had  been  her  factotum.  With  indefatigable  pains 
he  had  cultivated  the  waste  piece  of  ground ;  and  no 
well-trained  child  could  have  delighted  him  more  than 
did  this  grateful  bit  of  soil.  The  old  man  had  accom- 
panied his  mistress  when  she  withdrew  to  the  Owl's 
Nest,  and  he  still  occupied  his  room  in  the  basement  as 
a  kind  of  castellan,  according  to  the  directions  of  the 
old  lady's  will.  He  watched  over  every  stone  in  the 
walls  that  threatened  to  crumble, — over  every  weed  that 
sprang  up  in  forest  or  meadow.  "  He  counts  the  blades 
of  grass, — he  is  a  Cerberus,"  said  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer, 
the  former  lady's-maid  of  the  old  Frau.  For  her,  too, 
an  asylum  had  been  secured  for  her  lifetime  in  the 
Owl's  Nest  by  her  mistress.  She  occupied  the  best 
room  on  the  ground-floor,  the  pleasant  corner-room, 
where  she  sat  day  after  day  with  her  knitting  and  a 
novel  from  the  circulating  library,  and  where  she  could 
overlook  the  road  at  no  great  distance. 

These  two  old  people  lived  together  very  harmoni- 
ously. They  prepared  their  meals  at  the  same  hearth, 
and  never  quarrelled,  although  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer 
might  sometimes  feel  some  secret  indignation  as  she 
removed  her  chocolate-pot  and  soup-kettle  from  too 
close  proximity  to  the  gardener's  mess  of  sauerkraut 
or  leeks. 

Claudine  had  apprised  the  old  people  of  her  own 
and  her  brother's  arrival,  and  she  now  observed 
with  satisfaction  a  thin  column  of  smoke  rising  and 
floating  away  above  the  trees.  Fraulein  Linden- 


24  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

meyer  was  certainly  preparing  a  refreshing  cup  of 
coffee  which  would  make  the  'poor  beggar'  forget  his 
last  dreary  meal  of  potato  soup.  From  afar  came  the 
crowing  of  the  cock,  which,  with  his  six  hens,  re- 
sided in  a  corner  of  the  ruined  cloisters,  and  above 
the  curling  smoke  from  the  chimney  circled  Heine- 
mann's  white  doves,  glittering  against  the  blue  sky 
like  silver  spangles. 

The  road  now  made  a  gradual  turn  to  the  right, 
which  brought  slowly  into  view  the  island  of  garden 
and  meadow,  with  its  green-wreathed  ruins  in  the 
midst  of  the  woodland  shades.  There  lay  the  small 
house,  built  of  stone,  that  had  formerly  withstood  the 
torch  and  axe  of  the  rebellious  peasantry,  its  rough 
and  blackened  walls  veined  with  a  net-work  of  fresh 
mortar.  It  certainly  was  no  knightly  mansion,  and 
the  gray  coats  of  the  owls  that  housed  in  the  ruins  of 
the  chapel  were  much  more  in  harmony  with  it  than 
silken  court  trains  would  have  been.  No  matter!  It 
was  a  home-like  nest  for  unpretentious  mortals ;  it  lay 
embedded  in  luxuriant  greenery,  and  its  new  windows, 
with  their  spotless  curtains,  looked  out  from  its  ancient 
physiognomy  like  clear,  youthful  eyes. 

"Just  at  the  right  time  of  the  year,  Fraulein,"  said 
Heinemann,  opening  the  carriage  door.  "The  beds 
are  still  filled  with  narcissuses  and  tulips,  and  the  cot- 
tage roses  are  just  bursting  open,  while  the  children 
are  running  about  the  woods  with  their  hands  full  of 
May-flowers." 

He  had  been  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  carriage  in 
the  road,  the  broad  noonday  sun  shining  full  upon  his 
bare  head  and  thick  gray  hair  as  he  helped  them  all 
to  alight. 

"Ah,   it  smells  good   here,  little  Fraulein,  does  it 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  25 

not?"  he  said,  as  he  lifted  Elizabeth  out  of  the  vehicle 
and  held  her  for  a  minute  in  his  arms.  The  child  was 
inhaling  the  delicious  air  with  evident  delight.  "  Every- 
thing fragrant,  everything  in  bloom,  whichever  way 
j'ou  look,  child.  Yes,  the  dear  God  is  very  good  to  old 
Heinemann  !" 

He  was  right.  The  air  was  filled  with  sweet  odours 
from  the  beds  of  narcissus  and  from  the  innumerable 
blossoms  of  the  Persian  lilac. 

"  And  now  shall  we  not  go  to  Fraulein  Linden- 
meyer?"  he  asked  the  child,  his  eyes  twinkling  and  a 
broad  grin  on  his  honest  face.  "  She  is  waiting  for  us, 
with  beautiful  ribbons  on  her  head,  and  she's  been 
baking  cakes  all  the  morning.  There's  not  a  whole 
egg  left  in  the  house." 

With  a  smile  Claudine  walked  past  him  to  the  gate 
in  the  picket-fence,  where  there  appeared  between  two 
vines  flanking  the  entrance  the  old-fashioned  cap  with 
pomegranate  ribbons  upon  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer's 
gray  puffs  of  hair. 

The  good  old  creature  generally  had  some  quotation 
from  Schiller  or  Goethe  ready  for  such  occasions,  but 
to-day  her  lips  trembled  with  suppressed  emotion. 
Had  not  that  noble,  handsome  man,  her  pride,  the  for- 
mer lord  of  the  finest  estate  in  all  the  country  round, 
come  to  take  refuge  in  the  Owl's  Nest? 

But  with  great  composure  he  took  the  hand  which 
was  about  to  put  a  cambric  handkerchief  to  her  eyes 
and  clasped  it  warmly  between  his  own.  "  I  wonder  if 
Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  still  understands  me  as  well,  and 
can  defend  me  as  truly,  as  formerly,  when  some  favour 
was  to  be  obtained  from  my  grandmother  for  the  shy 
boy  ?"  he  said  gently,  stooping  to  look  into  her  face. 

Her  eyes  beamed.  "Ah,  be  sure  of  it,"  was  the 
B  3 


26  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

instant  response.  "  The  bell-room  is  all  ready  for  you  ; 
it  is  heavenly  up  there, — a  genuine  poet's  retreat.  You 
will  appreciate  it." 

He  smiled  and  pressed  her  hand  as  his  delighted  gaze 
wandered  across  the  garden.  Opposite  the  southern  por- 
tal of  the  ruined  church,  and  on  a  line  with  the  present 
dwelling-house,  although  at  some  small  distance  from 
it,  stood  the  bell-tower  of  the  convent  church.  Fire, 
tempest,  and  the  blasts  of  winter  had  gradually  reduced 
the  structure,  which  had  formerly  soared  high  in  air 
with  a  lofty,  pointed  spire,  to  a  low  round  tower,  all 
having  fallen  to  decay  above  the  bell-room,  where  the 
mason's  hand  had  arrested  it.  The  old  Frau  had  con- 
nected the  tower  and  dwelling-house  by  a  narrow  build- 
ing, the  lower  part  of  which  was  used  in  winter  as  a 
conservatory,  while  the  upper  part  constituted  a  kind 
of  gallery,  guarded  on  either  side  by  a  balustrade,  and 
leading  to  the  rooms  of  the  dwelling-house,  as  well  as 
to  the  lower  ones  in  the  tower,  through  glass  doors. 
High  above  shone  the  windows  of  the  bell-room,  which 
still  preserved  its  name. 

Whilst  Heinemann  was  taking  basket  and  trunk  from 
the  carriage,  the  others  walked  towards  the  house. 
For  a  moment  Claudine  stood  alone  before  the  house 
door.  She  turned  aside,  as  if  to  inhale  the  fragrance 
of  a  spray  of  syringa  that  drooped  above  her  shoulder, 
but  her  thoughts  were  far  away.  Across  this  threshold, 
three  years  before,  she  had  passed  into  a  world  filled 
with  brilliancy  and  amusement.  By  her  grandmother's 
desire  and  request  she  had  been  given  the  post  of  lady- 
in-waiting  to  the  Dowager  Duchess.  It  had  not  been 
easy  for  her  to  resign  her  much-coveted  position ;  far 
from  it.  Her  eyes  were  dim  and  her  lip  quivered. 
She  had  been  her  noble  mistress's  acknowledged  favour 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  27 

ite,  and  her  Highness  had  sheltered  her  from  every 
shaft  of  envy  and  malice,  so  that  she  had  known  scarce 
any  save  the  brilliant  side  of  court  life.  Now  all  that 
lay  behind  her  forever,  and  her  heart  was  already  filled 
with  longing  for  her  kind  and  gracious  old  mistresu. 
The  new  life  which  she  had  prescribed  for  herself  was 
by  no  means  an  easy  one.  Inexperienced,  ignorant  as 
to  the  needs  and  requirements  of  life,  she  had  ventured 
to  undertake  to  be  a  faithful  mother  to  the  child  of 
her  brother,  and  to  relieve  him  of  all  care  and  anxiety, 
husbanding  every  penny,  that  want  might  be  kept 
from  the  door  of  the  Owl's  Nest.  And  yet,  was  not 
this  her  bounden  duty,  as  her  departure  from  court  had 
also  been  her  bounden  duty  ? 

She  pressed  her  hand  to  her  throbbing  heart,  and, 
Blowly  crossing  the  threshold,  went  up  the  staircase, 
— narrow,  indeed,  but  scoured  to  a  snowy  white- 
ness. As  she  entered  the  room  which  had  been  her 
grandmother's  little  drawing-room  she  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  said  to  herself  that  it  would  be  sinful  weak- 
ness to  allow  her  courage  to  fail  here, — here  where 
everything  reminded  her  of  the  contented  life  of  a 
gentle,  though  strong,  feminine  nature,  where  the  dear 
old  portraits  of  good  people  greeted  her  kindly  from 
the  walls.  At  court,  to  be  sure,  the  walls  of  her  room 
had  been  hung  with  lofty  mirrors  and  rich  stuffs,  her 
foot  had  trodden  upon  costly  rugs,  and  a  richly-carved 
canopied  bedstead  with  silken  curtains,  in  the  adjoining 
apartment,  had  been  her  resting-place  at  night.  But 
the  same  Venetian  glasses  had  reflected  the  figure  of 
her  predecessor,  the  same  canopy  had  guarded  her 
slumbers,  and  in  a  few  days  a  successor  would  occupy 
the  same  apartments ;  she  had  but  borrowed  them. 
Where  she  now  stood  taking  off  her  hat  and  mantle 


28  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

to  stay  was  her  own,  her  home,  with  its  old-fashioned 
convenient  furniture,  its  antique  bookcase,  and  its  odd 
corner-cupboards  containing  her  grandmother's  porce- 
lain and  china.  Little  Elizabeth  ran  towards  her  in 
high  glee  with  a  piece  of  cake;  her  grandmother's 
copper  tea-kettle  was  smoking  on  the  sofa-table,  the 
door  leading  to  the  platform  of  the  connecting  structure 
stood  wide  open  to  admit  the  fragrant  breeze  from  the 
garden,  and  at  the  other  end  of  the  short  gallery  one 
could  see  through  the  glass  door  into  the  lower  room  of 
the  tower, — the  room  which  had  been  her  own  during 
her  girlish  vacations,  which  she  had  always  passed  with 
her  grandmother.  More  even  than  by  beholding  these 
dear  old  places  was  she  encouraged  and  cheered  by  the 
sight  of  her  brother.  His  step  was  as  elastic  as  if  he 
had  been  relieved  from  an  almost  intolerable  burden ; 
and  afterwards,  when  she  went  up  with  him  to  the 
bell-room  and  arranged  his  manuscript  and  papers  on 
a  table  by  the  window,  he  said,  "  It  is  a  trite  image, 
but  I  can  find  none  better:  I  feel  at  this  moment  like 
a  man  who,  after  being  wrecked  on  stormy  seas,  treads 
once  more  his  native  soil,  and  longs  to  fall  down  and 
kiss  it  gratefully." 


Two  weeks  had  passed  since  then,  weeks  filled  with 
work  and  exertion  which  had  brought  their  reward. 
Yes,  it  was  a  success,  even  although  the  coarse  apron 
donned  for  household  purposes  now  and  then  showed 
scorched  spots,  and  although  the  hands  of  the  newly, 
made  cook  were  very  sensitive  to  rough  usage.  Frau- 
lein  Lindenmeyer's  assistance  was  from  the  first  de- 
clined. She  was  frail  and  old,  and  often  needed  care 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  29 

and  nursing.  Heinemann,  on  the  other  hand,  was  of 
inestimable  service ;  he  performed  all  the  ruder  tasks 
required  in  the  housekeeping. 

To-day  for  the  first  time  Claudine  found  time  to 
mount  to  the  roof  of  the  tower.  The  morning  sun 
lay  brightly  upon  its  hoary  head,  the  brazen  tongue 
of  which — the  bell  that  had  once  sounded  its  summons 
over  forest  and  hill — had  long  before  been  hurled  into 
the  depths  below  by  infuriated  peasants.  The  topmost 
walls  were  flecked  with  yellow  stone-crop  struggling 
forth  to  the  light  from  every  rift  and  chink,  and  for  all 
its  aged  dignity  the  old  pile  gladly  harboured  and  shel- 
tered the  tiny  feathered  folk,  that  built  and  bred  and 
piped  and  twittered  beneath  its  window-sills  and  ledges. 
And  up  from  the  garden,  and  from  the  greenery  that 
draped  the  ruins  of  the  chapel,  came  the  dreamy  hum 
of  '  innumerable  bees'  and  of  the  wild  horde  of  wasps, 
insatiate  in  their  thirst  for  the  sweets  that  May  offers 
in  her  chalices. 

Over  it  all  arched  the  blue  sky,  only  now  and  then 
traversed  by  a  bird  in  its  swift  flight,  clear  as  crystal, 
as  far  above  the  earth,  with  its  blooming  growth  and 
mouldering  decay,  as  are  the  thoughts  of  the  Most  High 
above  human  dreaming  and  striving;  but  on  the  distant 
horizon  it  met  the  swelling  mountain-range  and  melted 
into  it.  There  the  Paulinenthal  broadened  to  a  plain, 
to  be  cut  off  by  those  far-off  heights.  A  delicate 
golden  mist  veiled  the  level  landscape  and  obscured  the 
ducal  castle.  Nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  its  lofty 
structure,  its  flag-decked  towers,  its  broad  terrace 
steps,  at  the  foot  of  which  the  swans  circled,  furrowing 
the  placid  silver  of  the  little  lake;  nothing  of  the 
thicket  of  magnolias  and  orange-trees  in  the  wondrous 
conservatories,  where  the  atmosphere,  heavy  with  fra- 

3* 


30  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

grance,  brought  the  blood  throbbing  to  the  temples  and 
made  the  heart  beat  with  a  sense  of  oppression  ;  noth- 
ing of  the  lofty  windows,  behind  which  a  young  wife, 
the  daughter  of  a  king,  slender  and  very  pale,  walked 
feebly  hither  and  thither,  coughing  from  time  to  time, 
and  longing  for  a  glance  from  the  dark  eyes  whose 
looks  of  imploring  passion  were  given — to  another. 

Claudine  hastily  retreated  from  the  parapet,  pale  to 
the  lips.  Was  it  for  this  that  she  had  ascended  hither 
under  the  cool  blue,  to  be  assailed  by  such  memories 
of  all  from  which  she  had  fled  ?  Yes,  heaven  and 
earth  met  and  mingled  in  the  human  heart,  as  they 
did  there  on  the  distant  horizon. 

She  turned  away  from  the  sunlit  expanse  and  looked 
northward.  Woods,  nothing  but  green  woods,  in  that 
direction,  except  where  the  broad  road  cleft  the  foliage. 
There  in  distant  perspective  like  a  little  framed  picture 
could  be  seen  the  Neuhaus  mansion,  its  many-windowed 
facade  standing  out  among  its  circle  of  lindens.  There 
a  strong  and  rough  but  pure  breeze  was  blowing  under 
Beata's  rule.  For  some  time  there  had  been  a  cool- 
ness between  the  two  branches  of  the  family.  The 
Neuhausers  had  publicly  condemned  the  colonel's  '  god- 
less devotion  to  the  gaming-table,'  and  there  was  an 
end  of  all  pleasant  intercourse  between  the  families, 
which  had  formerly  intermarried  several  times.  Lothar 
and  Joachim,  the  present  representatives  of  the  two, 
and  about  the  same  age,  had  studiously  avoided  each 
other,  although  Claudine  and  Beata,  who  were  pupils 
of  one  and  the  same  pension,  were  far  more  friendly. 

Thus  no  one  had  been  surprised  when  the  two 
Gerolds  who  suddenly  appeared  at  court  had  held 
coldly  aloof  from  each  other, — Lothar,  the  elegant, 
satirical  officer,  and  Claudine,  the  new  lady-in-waiting. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  31 

Lothar  was  a  distinguished  figure,  imperious  in  demean- 
our, conscious  of  having  attained  the  goal  of  his  ambi- 
tion, flattered  and  caressed  by  the  court  circle,  and  he 
had  seemed  quite  to  overawe  and  embarrass  Claudine. 
It  was  just  before  his  marriage  with  the  Princess 
Katharina,  the  cousin  of  the  reigning  Duke,  and  the 
girl  had  not  taken  it  amiss  that  from  his  dizzy  height 
he  had  ignored  the  daughter  of  the  impoverished 
branch  of  his  family,  which  had  wellnigh  extinguished 
the  splendour  of  the  ancient  name,  whilst  he  could  now 
add  to  it  the  title  of  Baron,  lately  conferred  upon  him 
by  the  Duke.  She  had  been  a  shadow  on  the  path- 
way of  this  brilliant  star  in  the  firmament  of  the  court, 
and  this  thought  had  sufficed  to  cause  her  to  shrink 
from  all  possible  contact  with  one  so  lofty  in  position. 

How  ineffably  plain  and  simple  did  his  paternal 
mansion  show  in  the  landscape  at  this  minute  in  the 
light  of  the  event  which  had  crowned  his  ambitious 
hopes,  his  marriage!  She  could  see  him  now  in  her 
mind's  eye  as  he  had  stood  beside  the  Princess  on  the 
steps  of  the  altar,  surrounded  by  all  the  glittering  pomp 
and  splendour  of  the  court.  The  insignificant  figure 
of  the  bride,  buried,  as  it  were,  in  satin  and  lace,  had 
nestled  close  to  his  lofty  form,  as  if  she  feared  even  then 
that  be  whom  she  had  shown  such  determination  to  wed 
might  be  snatched  from  her,  and  her  black  bead  like 
eyes  had  gazed  up  at  him  fixedly  in  passionate  devotion. 
And  he?  He  had  been  deadly  pale,  and  his  'yes'  had 
been  harshly,  almost  angrily,  uttered.  Had  he  been 
seized  with  a  vertigo  on  the  summit  of  his  fortune,  or 
had  he  suddenly  been  assailed  by  a  foreboding  that  he 
should  not  long  enjoy  it,  that  the  loving  black  eyes  would 
close  forever  a  year  afterwards  beneath  the  pines  and 
palms  of  the  Riviera,  whither  their  travelling-carriage 


32  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

had  borne  the  pair  immediately  after  the  marriage 
ceremony?  Yes,  the  Princess  had  died  there  in  their 
lovely  villa  after  giving  birth  to  a  daughter,  and  there 
the  bereaved  husband  was  still  living,  to  give  the  child, 
a  frail  little  creature,  the  benefit,  it  was  said,  of  the 
warmer  climate,  but  it  might  well  be  from  a  reluctance 
to  quit  the  scene  of  his  short-lived  happiness.  He  had 
not  seen  his  native  place  since,  and  it  could  hardly  be, 
if  he  did  return,  that  he  would  occupy  the  quiet  lonely 
house  yonder,  which  was  surely  best  for  the  hermits 
of  the  Owl's  Nest  and  for  the  soothing  serenity  of  the 
woodland  oasis. 

Claudine  leaned  smiling  over  the  balustrade  of  the 
tower  and  looked  down  into  the  garden  that  lay  be- 
neath her  like  a  bright  chess-board  with  its  brilliant 
flower-  and  vegetable-beds.  "  Lullaby,  lullaby,"  sang 
little  Elizabeth,  as  she  trudged  along  the  principal  path 
with  her  favourite  nursling  wrapped  in  a  pink  cloak 
in  her  arms.  Heinemann  had  stuck  a  bunch  of  May- 
flowers in  her  straw  hat,  and  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer 
was  watching  the  happy  little  creature  from  the  arbour, 
where  she  was  tying  asparagus  into  bunches  for  Heine- 
mann. The  old  gardener  sold  surplus  vegetables  and 
flowers  in  the  neighbouring  little  town ;  the  proceeds 
of  such  sales  were  his  own  by  the  will  of  his  deceased 
mistress. 

He  was  just  coming  from  the  ruins  with  an  armful 
of  chips,  and  through  the  open  glass  door  was  heard 
the  deep  bell  of  the  tall  clock  in  the  dwelling-room 
striking  eleven, — time  to  go  to  the  kitchen. 

"  Labour  is  no  disgrace,"  Heinemann  remarked  soon 
afterwards  in  the  kitchen,  with  a  side-glance  at  the  iron 
pan  which  Claudine  had  placed  on  the  hearth, — "  no, 
none  at  all ;  and  a  couple  of  black  spots  do  not  deface 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  33 

delicate  fingers  any  more  than  does  the  black  earth  my 
white  narcissuses  when  they  come  up  out  of  it.  But 
to  come  directly  from  a  court  to  a  kitchen, — why,  'tis 
just  as  if  my  beautiful  gloxinias  should  come  up  in  the 
chicken-yard,  poor  things!  It  just  chokes  me  to  look 
on  and  see  it.  If  it  had  to  be ; but  there  is  no  ab- 
solute need  of  it  that  I  know.  'Tis  all  very  well  to 
save, — I  don't  throw  away  my  pennies;  God  forbid! — 
but  there's  reason  in  all  things,  Fraulein  Claudine." 
He  looked  significantly  at  the  very  tiny  piece  of  but- 
ter which  had  just  been  put  into  the  pan  in  which  a 
couple  of  pigeons  were  to  be  cooked.  '  "  That's  not 
enough  for  a  barefooted  friar!"  He  shook  his  head. 
"  No*  need  for  us  to  shave  as  close  as  that,  not  as  close 
as  that.  We  are  richer  than  you  think,  Fraulein 
Claudine." 

He  spoke  the  last  words  very  slowly,  and  with  such 
significant  emphasis  that  the  young  lady  looked  up  at 
him  in  surprise.  "Have  you  discovered  a  treasure, 
Hcinemann?"  she  asked,  smiling. 

"  That's  as  one  chooses  to  look  at  it,"  he  said,  wagging 
his  head,  while  countless  little  wrinkles  at  the  corners 
of  his  eyes  expressed  much  secret  satisfaction.  "  'Tis 
neither  silver  nor  gold.  God  knows  a  fellow  might 
search  himself  blind  among  the  old  ruins  and  never 
pick  up  a  farthing's  worth.  No,  no ;  it  all  stuck  to  the 
fingers  of  those  murdering  thieves  long  ago.  Why, 
they  even  tore  off  the  gold  spangles  from  the  petticoat 
of  the  infant  Jesus!  But  there  are  other  things  of  value 
besides  church  vessels  and  ornaments.  You  see,  the 
convent  once  owned  a  deal  of  land.  Many  a  young 
girl  joined  the  order,  bringing  wealth  in  land  with  her, 
and  it  was  all  turned  to  profit, — let  out  for  farms, — and 
there  were  tithes  of  grain  and  poultry  and  honey  and 


34  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

God  knows  what  besides,  and  the  convent  farms  were 
well  managed.  The  old  pile  here  flowed  with  milk  and 
honey,  like  the  land  of  Canaan,  and  the  nuns  knew  how 
to  turn  what  came  to  them  into  shining  coin.  Many  a 
freight-wagon  left  the  convent  gates  laden  with  casks 
and  chests  to  be  sold  out  in  the  world.  Ah !  the  nuns 
knew  what  they  were  about  right  well,  right  well. 
And  everywhere  on  the  meadows  there  were  heath- 
berries  and  blackberries  and  strawberries,  all  good  for 
bees,  which  were  more  plentiful  here  than  on  the  great 
bee-farms  in  Hungary  in  our  time.  Yes,  indeed;  and 
yesterday  evening  I  was  down  in  the  cellar,  where  I 
had  long  since  noticed  there  were  a  couple  of  loose 
stones  that  needed  some  mortar.  What  with"  the 
clearing  out  and  cleaning  of  the  upper  rooms,  I  had 
put  off  attending  to  it;  but  last  evening  I  thought  I 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  my  neglect,  and  I  got  my 
mortar-bucket  and  trowel  and  went  down.  I  took  hold 
of  the  loose  stone,  and  it  suddenly  came  out  in  my 
hands,  and,  good  gracious!  before  I  knew  what  was 
going  to  happen,  more  stones  rattled  out,  until  there 
was  a  hole  there  big  enough  for  a  man  to  get  into,  and 
when  I  looked  in,  what  did  I  see  ?  Why,  wax  1" 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  to  revel  in  the  remem- 
brance. "  Yes,  wax ;  beautiful,  pure,  yellow  wax,"  he  re- 
peated, emphasizing  eveiy  word.  "  Plate  upon  plate, 
a  whole,  dry  cellar-full,  just  under  the  tower!"  He 
shook  his  head.  "  'Tis  a  marvel !  Old  fellow  as  I  am, 
I  love  a  fairy-tale,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  were  in  the  middle 
of  one ;  for  what  fills  that  cellar  is  the  same  as  a  chest- 
full  of  gold.  The  nuns  must  have  been  storing  it  up 
for  years — years!  There's  a  many  hundred-weight; 
and  they  knew  its  value  well  enough,  or  they  would 
never  have  walled  it  up  so  tight  before  they  ran  off. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  35 

And  I  know  it  too,  for  I've  kept  bees  myself,  and  have 
sold  what  they  brought  me." 

Involuntarily  Claudine  had  paused  in  her  occupation, 
and  had  followed  the  man's  story  with  eager  interest 
as  his  honest  old  face  brightened  with  delight  and  pride 
in  his  discovery.  "  Yes,  yes ;  there's  a  couple  of  thou- 
sand thalers'  worth  there  at  least,"  he  said,  with  a  long 
breath  and  a  merry  twinkle  of  his  eyes.  "  Hm  !  a  tidy 
little  dowry  which  the  nun's  ghosts,  that  walk  still,  they 
say,  have  stored  up  specially  for  our  Friuilein." 

Claudine  laughed.  "  I  don't  think  we  ought  to  appro- 
priate your  discovery,  Heinemann,"  she  said,  shaking 
her  head.  "  The  former  owners  here  have  the  same 
rights  as  ourselves." 

The  old  gardener's  look  turned  suddenly  to  one  of 

surprise  and  dismay.  "  They  surely  will  not ?"  he 

stammered.  "  Why,  it  would  be  a  sin  and  a  shame ! 
That  Neuhauser,  with  all  his  wealth  and  princely  luck 
into  the  bargain,  would  sooner  cut  off  his  hand  than 
snatch  at  such  a  petty  morsel  I  To  be  sure," — he 
shrugged  his  shoulders, — "  no  one  can  tell.  So  many 
fine  gentlemen  nowadays  want  all  that  they  can  get, 
and  it  may  be  that  the  Herr  Baron  will  hold  out  his 
hand  and  not  say  '  no'  when  it  cornes  to  the  point. 
Mercy  on  us !  I  no  more  dreamed  of  the  Neuhausers 
putting  a  spoke  in  our  wheel  than  I  did  of  the  skies 
falling.  Well,  well,  we  must  wait  and  see  if  some  one 
does  not  scrape  the  very  butter  off  our  bread."  He 
sighed  and  went  towards  the  door.  "But  you  must 
come  and  see  it  all,  Fraulein  Claudine.  I'll  go  down 
and  clear  out  a  couple  of  stones  that  are  in  the  way, 
and  see  that  everything  overhead  is  in  order,  so  that 
there  may  be  no  accident,  and  after  that  I've  done 
with  it " 


36  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Soon  afterwards  Claudine  and  her  brother  accom. 
panied  the  old  man  to  the  cellar. 

It  was  a  fine,  dry,  cool  room  which  the  lantern  in 
Heinemann's  hand  revealed  to  them.  Yes,  these  walls 
dated  from  the  time  when  the  noble  might  build  as  he 
chose,  without  making  any  considerable  hole  in  his 
purse, — when  the  peasants  were  serfs,  whose  labour 
transported  hither  the  huge,  smooth  stones  and  ce- 
mented them  «o  thoroughly  that  no  dampness  could 
penetrate  the  thick  walls.  It  was  no  wonder  that  the 
waxen  treasure  of  the  nuns  still  lay  here  just  as  it 
had  been  piled  by  the  hands  so  long  since  fallen  to 
dust.  There  it  was,  disk  heaped  on  disk;  the  outsides 
brown  with  age,  it  is  true,  but  where  freshly  broken 
showing  as  bright  and  yellow  as  if  just  from  the 
melting-pot. 

"Just  as  good  as  coined  gold,"  said  Heinemann, 
swinging  his  lantern  around  so  as  to  show  the  piles 
of  wax  on  every  side.  "And  all  that  collected  by 
the  little  fellows  in  yellow  breeches." 

"  And  the  cups,  the  blossoms  where  they  gathered 
it,  bloomed  centuries  ago,"  Herr  von  Gerold  said  with 
some  emotion.  "If  I  had  the  disposal  of  the  treasure, 
not  a  finger  should  be  allowed  to  touch  it." 

"  Lord  preserve  us !"  the  old  gardener  ejaculated  in 
dismay. 

"Even  although  no  inscriptions  can  be  found  upon 
the  surfaces  of  the  disks  such  as  have  been  deciphered 
on  the  wax  tablets  of  the  ancients,"  Herr  von  Gerold 
went  on,  regardless  of  the  interruption,  "they  are  vivid 
mementos  of  the  secluded  existence  of  the  cloister. 
What  was  the  inner  life  of  the  nuns,  while  their  busy 
fingers  transformed  to  the  shape  we  see  here  what  the 
humming, '  heavy-winged  thieves'  had  brought  to  them 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  37 

from  the  blooming,  lovely,  wicked  world  outside  the 
convent  walls !  What  were  their  thoughts " 

"  Allow  me,  Herr  von  Gerold, — I  can  tell  you  exactly. 
They  thought  of  the  glittering  coin  the  wax  would 
bring  them,  and  nothing  else,"  Heinemann  interposed 
respectfully,  but  with  such  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes  thut 
Herr  von  Gerold  could  not  help  laughing.  "  The  nuns 
and  monks  were  always  fond  of  hoarding.  I've  read 
all  about  it,  and  of  how  the  pious  ladies  in  the  convent 
could  wheedle  the  last  savings  and  the  tiniest  spot  of 
ground  out  of  those  who  were  so  frightened  at  the  idea 
of  leaving  the  world,  that  they  were  ready  to  sign 
away  everything  in  payment  for  pra}"ers  for  their  sal- 
vation. It  was  just  the  same  then  as  it  is  now, — 
man  grasps  whatever  he  can  get;  he  is  but  a  poor 
creature  of  earth,  and  has  never  yet  been  born  with 
wings.  Only  there's  no  need  to  pull  such  a  holy  face 
and  pretend  that  it's  all  for  the  glory  of  God  and  His 
righteousness." 

He  let  the  light  of  his  lantern  play  upon  the  walls  of 
the  chamber.  "What  a  beautiful  cellar  it  is!  Not  a 
trace  of  the  fire  that  destroyed  so  much  is  to  be  seen 
here.  We  shall  make  good  use  of  this  room,  Fraulein 
Claudine.  All  the  other  underground  rooms  are  useless, 
except  that  miserable  hole," — pointing  towards  the 
email  cellar  beneath  the  dwelling-house, — "  where  there 
is  hardly  room  for  a  few  potatoes.  And  so  we'll  get 
all  this  stuff  out  into  the  air  as  soon  as  possible." 

"That  must  not  be,  my  dear  Heinemann,"  Claudine 
said,  decidedly.  "This  must  all  remain  just  as  it  is, 
untouched,  until  it  has  been  inspected  by  some  one  of 
the  Neuhausers. — Will  you  not  write  to  Lothar  ?"  she 
said,  turning  to  her  brother. 

"  I  ?"  Herr  von  Gerold  exclaimed,  with  an  air  of 
4 


38  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

comic  dismay.  "  Dear  heart,  anything  that  you  desire 
— save  only  that !  You  know " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  she  said,  smiling.  "  Nor  do  I  wish 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  Herr  Baron.  I  will 
confide  the  matter  to  Beata.  She  can  either  come 
herself,  or  send  some  suitable  person." 

Herr  von  Gerold  nodded.  "  It  can  do  no  harm  to 
inform  them  at  Neuhaus  of  the  discovery.  The  world 
is  censorious,  and,  hearing  of  what  has  been  found, 
would  probably  exaggerate  and  be  ready  to  accuse 
the  finders  of  concealment.  No  shadow  of  the  kind 
must  fall  upon  my  little  sister.  Lothar  will  think  just 
as  I  do.  The  nuns'  wax  has  been  unowned  property 
for  so  long  that  it  now  belongs  to  whoever  owns  the 
place  where  it  was  found.  Nota  bene,  according  to 
Roman  and  common  law  only  half,  however,  for  the 
other  half  goes  to  the  finder,  in  this  case  our  Heine- 
mann." 

The  old  gardener  started  in  positive  terror.  "  To 
me  ?  The  half  of  what  is  found  on  Gerold  soil  mine  ? 
That  would  bo  a  fine  affair  1  What  had  I  to  do  with 
the  old  stones  tumbling  out  of  the  wall  ?  Was  it  any 
merit  of  mine?  And  what  do  I  want  with  the  stuff?" 
He  shook  his  head  energetically.  "  I  have  enough,  and 
more  than  enough,  to  keep  me  while  I  live.  I  have  no 
care  for  the  future,  thanks  to  my  dear  old  mistress. 
No,  don't  mention  anything  of  the  kind  to  me,  Herr 
von  Gerold.  Not  a  crumb  will  I  take, — not  even  so 
much  as  would  wax  an  end  of  thread !  But  I  suppose 
things  ought  to  be  managed  rightly,  so  let  some  one 
come  over  from  Neuhaus  and  stick  his  nose  in  here, 
that  there  may  be  no  stupid  gossip  hereafter." 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  39 

The  next  afternoon  Claudine  walked  through  the 
forest  to  the  Neuhaus  Geroldscourt.  She  wanted  to 
speak  to  Beata  herself.  She  went  by  a  narrow  foot- 
path which,  winding  through  the  woods,  at  last  led 
into  the  broad  road,  leading  from  the  highway,  near 
the  Altenstein  Geroldscourt. 

It  was  a  tolerably  long  distance  which  she  had  to 
walk,  but  the  path  was  carpeted  with  moss  as  soft  as 
velvet,  and  above  her  arched  the  luxuriant  interlacing 
boughs  of  gigantic  trees.  She  herself,  the  lovely  swan 
of  the  Gerolds,  as  her  brother  had  tenderly  called  her, 
flitted,  in  her  light  summer  dress  and  straw  hat,  like 
a  ray  of  light  through  the  delicious  green  twilight 
that  surrounded  her  until  she  reached  the  road,  which 
gradually  ascended  the  mountain-side  through  thinner 
forests,  and  then  past  fields  of  clover  and  young 
wheat,  through  a  country  rich  in  every  agricultural 
blessing. 

Involuntarily  she  stooped  and  gathered  a  handful 
of  the  buttercups  that  shone  among  the  rich  meadow- 
grass  like  little  golden  eyes.  Before  long  the  windows 
of  Neuhaus  were  in  sight.  The  castle,  as  it  was  called, 
was  situated  on  a  gentle  eminence ;  a  velvet  lawn 
clothed  the  slope ;  the  grass  there  was  cultivated  for 
beauty,  not  for  utility. 

Claudine  approached  by  a  narrow  path  leading  di- 
rectly through  the  lawn.  Her  eyes  were  bent  upon 
the  ground,  and  she  did  not  look  up  until  she  reached 
the  gravel  sweep  beneath  the  lindens  on  the  western 
side ;  there  she  paused  for  a  moment,  disagreeably 
surprised,  and  for  the  moment  uncertain  whether  to 
advance  or  not.  There  were  visitors  at  Neuhaus. 

A  lady,  who  had  apparently  been  walking  to  and 
fro  beneath  the  lindens,  approached  her;  she  was 


40  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

tall  and  stately,  with  a  very  fair  complexion  and  dark 
eyes.  Her  rich  gray  silk  train  trailed  on  the  gravel, 
and  in  the  comb  which  fastened  her  thick  braids  of 
hair  high  on  her  head  jewels  were  sparkling.  She 
carried  in  her  arms  a  child,  a  puny  sallow  little  crea- 
ture in  a  long  dress,  the  lace  trimming  of  which  almost 
touched  the  ground. 

Claudine  gazed  as  if  spell-bound  at  the  child's  face. 
She  knew  those  large  glittering  beady  eyes,  the  aqui- 
line nose  above  the  pouting  lips,  the  low  forehead  above 
which  the  black  hair  bristled  so  thickly, — the  resem- 
blance was  strong  to  the  collateral  branch  of  the 
reigning  ducal  family. 

"  Want  them !"  the  child  stammered,  reaching  out  for 
the  buttercups  in  Claudine's  hand. 

The  young  lady  with  a  kindly  smile  would  have  put 
the  flowers  into  the  outstretched  hand,  but  the  person 
carrying  the  child  retreated  hastily,  as  if  there  might  be 
infection  in  such  contact.  "  Oh,  no,  if  you  please !  I 
cannot  allow  that!"  she  insisted,  with  a  contemptuous 
glance  at  Claudine's  simple  attire.  There  was  some- 
thing decidedly  hostile  in  the  woman's  fiery  eyes. 

The  child  thus  denied  began  to  scream  loudly,  and 
at  that  moment  a  gentleman  came  around  the  corner 
of  the  house.  "  Why  is  the  child  screaming  so  fright- 
fully ?''  he  asked,  approaching  in  evident  irritation. 

Claudine  involuntarily  assumed  the  coldly-reserved 
demeanor  which  had  been  her  shield  and  breastplate  at 
court.  Baron  Lothar  had  returned  to  Germany,  and 
the  wayward  little  girl  was  his  child. 

"  Want  them  !"  the  little  thing  repeated  in  the  midst 
of  its  screams,  and  pointed  to  the  flowers. 

Baron  Lothar  shook  his  finger  at  it  gravely,  and  it 
stopped  screaming.  His  bearded  face  flushed,  and  there 


THE  OWL'S  JVEST.  41 

was  irritation  in  his  eyes  at  sight  of  the  former  lady- 
in-waiting,  who  stood  before  him  coldly  self-possessed. 
Nevertheless  he  bowed  courteously. 

"Little  one,"  he  said,  with  a  sarcastic  smile,  to  the 
child,  as  he  wiped  away  the  tears  from  the  puny  face, 
"who  would  have  flowers  plucked  by  another!  You 
must  learn  that  fair  hands  delight  to  withhold  what 
is  desired." 

Claudine  looked  at  him,  idolized  and  spoiled  by 
women  as  he  had  been,  in  incredulous  surprise,  but 
she  was  not  at  all  embarrassed  by  his  sharp  speech. 
"  The  child  shall  not  learn  so  hard  a  lesson  from  me," 
she  said,  gently.  "  And  I  really  have  no  right  to  these 
flowers, — they  grew  in  your  meadow. — Will  you  now 

allow  me ?"  turning  to  the  woman  in  charge  of 

the  little  girl. 

Baron  Lothar  turned  also  to  the  stately  dame  in 
angry  surprise.  "Now?"  he  repeated.  "How  so?" 

"  I  was  afraid  that  Leonie  might  put  the  flowers  in 
her  mouth,"  was  the  stammered  reply.  Vexation  and 
confusion  struggled  for  the  mastery  in  the  tone  in 
which  the  words  were  spoken. 

His  lip  curled  with  contempt.  "  And  the  wild-flow- 
ers, torn  up  ruthlessly  and  heaped  beside  the  child's 
carriage  and  on  the  coverlet, — who  gave  her  those, 
Frau  von  Berg  ?" 

The  lady  was  silent  and  turned  away  her  head,  while 
Claudine  made  haste  to  give  the  flowers  to  the  child, 
for  the  scene  was  becoming  embarrassing.  The  tiny 
hands  forthwith  began  to  pull  the  poor  yellow  blossoms 
to  pieces.  Involuntarily  Claudine  was  reminded  of  the 
child's  mother,  the  Princess  Katharina,  who,  it  was 
said,  at  the  time  of  her  incipient  passion  for  the  hand- 
some Lothar,  used  to  pull  to  pieces  flower  after  flower 

4* 


42  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

with  a  feverishly  murmured  "  He  loves  me,  loves  me 
not,"  etc.,  thus  destroying  the  loveliest  roses,  the  rarest 
blossoms,  in  the  hot-house. 

Perhaps  Baron  Lothar's  thoughts  were  similarly 
employed ;  he  looked  on  with  a  frown  at  the  work  of 
destruction  and  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  must  beg 
you  to  let  the  child  lie  down  again,"  he  said  to  Frau 
von  Berg.  "  She  has  been  sitting  up  too  long,  and  is 
tired,  as  she  shows  by  leaning  forward." 

The  lady  rustled  away  to  get  the  child's  carriage, 
while  Claudine,  with  an  inclination  of  her  head,  would 
have  left  the  master  of  the  house,  but  he  walked  beside 
her. 

As  they  turned  around  the  corner  a  light  breeze 
awoke,  stirring  the  leaves  of  the  lindens  above  them 
to  a  low  murmur. 

"How  mysteriously  they  whisper  up  there!"  said 
Baron  Lothar.  "Do  you  know  what  the  old  trees 
whisper  about  ?  About  the  Montagues  and  Capulets 
of  the  Paulinenthal  ?" 

The  young  lady  smiled  coldly.  "At  a  girls'  school 
there  is  seldom  any  thought  of  family  feuds,"  she 
replied,  with  composure.  "  Girls  like  one  another 
without  asking  if  they  may;  and  if  I  come  to-day 
where  my  people  have  not  been  welcome,  it  is  to  see 
my  school-mate.  I  spent  part  of  my  last  school  holi- 
days at  Neuhaus ;  the  beautiful  old  trees  know  me." 

He  bowed  silently  and  walked  on,  while  she  entered 
the  hall.  There  was  no  need  to  ask  after  Beata ;  the 
clear,  energetic  voice  of  the  '  school-mate'  was  distinctly 
audible  behind  a  door  leading  into  a  room  looking  on 
the  court-yard. 

"  Come,  don't  be  silly,  child  !"  it  said.  "  I  have  no 
time  to  waste.  Hold  out  your  hand  !"  Then  came  a 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  43 

moment's  pause.  "  Only  see  how  beautifully  the  cut  is 
healing !  We  can  draw  out  that  stitch  now."  A  low  cry 
in  a  youthful  voice  followed,  and  then  there  was  silence. 

Claudine  opened  the  door  noiselessly.  The  atmos- 
phere of  the  ironing-room  greeted  her  senses.  At  a 
long  table  three  women  were  standing  ironing  dili- 
gently, while  Beata  at  a  window  was  re-bandaging  the 
injured  hand  of  a  young  servant-maid. 

She  did  not  perceive  her  visitor,  but  her  keen  eyes 
strayed  from  the  bandage  she  was  adjusting  to  the 
ironing-board.  "  Louise,  you  dunce,  what  are  you 
doing?"  she  exclaimed.  "Good  heavens,  one  of  my 
best  collars  in  your  unskilful  hands!  What  business 
has  such  a  beginner  as  you  to  attempt  to  iron  that?" 
She  took  the  embroidered  collar  from  the  girl,  sprinkled 
it  with  water,  and  rolled  it  up.  "  I  will  repair  the  mis- 
chief myself  by  and  by,"  she  said  to  the  others,  pointing 
to  the  tiny  bundle.  Then  she  turned  towards  the  door 
and  discovered  Claudine.  On  the  instant  genuine,  cordial 
delight  quite  transfigured  her  harsh  features.  "  Have 
coffee  made  instantly !"  she  called  back  into  the  ironing- 
room,  as  she  put  her  arm  around  the  young  lady's  waist 
and  led  her  into  the  sitting-room,  the  spacious  beauti- 
ful corner  apartment,  with  its  dark  antique  mahogany 
furniture,  its  white-pine  flooring,  and  its  spotless  white 
curtains.  Just  so  the  room  had  looked  before  either 
Lothar  or  Beata  had  been  born,  when  the  old  spinning- 
wheel  had  hummed  in  the  window-recess. 

The  shades  of  the  three  windows  toward  the  south 
were  pulled  down,  but  the  two  windows  that  looked 
toward  the  east  needed  no  screen  from  the  broad  after- 
noon sunshine.  The  lindens  arched  above  them,  and 
beneath  their  interlacing  foliage  there  was  a  clear,  un- 
impeded view  of  the  blooming,  sunlit  landscape. 


44  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Now  make  yourself  comfortable,  dear  old  school- 
mate," said  Beata,  leading  her  visitor  to  a  seat  at  one 
of  these  windows.  She  took  off  her  hat  and  passed 
her  hand  lightly  over  the  beautiful  and  abundant  hair, 
which,  carelessly  knotted  at  the  back,  had  been  some- 
what loosened  beneath  the  hat.  "  There  it  is,  just  as 
we  all  liked  to  see  it, — those  wavy  curls  on  your  fore- 
head and  neck !  No  false  '  bangs'  do  you  ever  wear, 
and  the  court  barber  has  had  no  chance  to  touch  your 
head  with  his  tongs.  Ah,  you  have  come  tolerably 
whole  and  sound  out  of  that — Babel  I" 

Claudine  smiled  and  sat  down  at  Beata's  work-table. 
Beside  some  fine  mending  lay  a  beautifully  bound  copy 
of  Scheffel's  '  Ekkehard.' 

"  Yes,  you  see,  dear,"  said  Beata,  half  apologetically, 
noticing  the  book,  as  she  busied  herself  with  the  ar- 
rangements for  serving  the  coffee,  "  a  woman  like  my- 
self, who  has  to  play  gendarme  to  indolence  and  care- 
lessness all  day  long,  and  to  work  very  hard  herself 
into  the  bargain,  clings  all  the  more  tenaciously  to  her 
rare  hours  of  refreshment,  and  so  I  gradually  gather 
together  in  my  small  library  all  that  is  best  in  our 
modern  literature." 

So  saying,  she  put  both  book  and  mending  into  her 
work-basket  and  covered  the  table  with  a  napkin,  then 
brought  out  the  sugar-box,  an  old-fashioned  lacquered 
tin  case  with  a  strong  clasp.  She  opened  it  and  made 
a  wry  face.  "  Yes,  I  thought  so, — and  no  wonder,  with 
all  the  hubbub, — they  have  put  soft  sugar  into  the  box 
for  the  best.  Did  any  one  ever  hear  of  such  careless- 
ness I  Oh,  Lothar  played  me  such  a  trick !  The  fellow 
answered  my  letter  telling  him  of  the  purchase  of  your 
silver,  and  informed  me  that  he  was  coming  back  him- 
self. I  supposed  that  he  would  arrive  at  the  earliest 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  45 

in  July,  and  was  in  no  hurry,  when  suddenly,  just  as 
we  were  in  the  middle  of  our  big  wash,  the  day  before 
yesterday,  he  came  down  upon  us  like  an  avalanche 
with  bag  and  baggage.  It  was  terrible;  I  needed  all 
my  presence  of  mind,  for  the  housekeeper  lost  her  head 
entirely  and  made  mistake  after  mistake." 

She  lit  the  spirit-lamp  under  the  coffee-urn  and  cut  a 
piece  of  cake  into  slices,  Claudine  meanwhile  reflecting 
upon  how  well  she  looked  in  her  wide,  snowy  apron, 
her  linen  collar  and  cuffs,  as  '  on  hospitable  thoughts 
intent'  she  played  the  part  of  hostess.  Her  self-pos- 
ses'sion  contrasted  oddly  enough  with  the  awkward, 
almost  offensive  demeanour  of  the  '  barbarous  woman' 
who  had  been  encountered  on  the  staircase  at  Alten- 
stein  Geroldscourt. 

"Lothar  alone  would  have  given  us  no  trouble  at  all," 
she  went  on,  after  she  had  taken  a  bowl  of  early  straw- 
berries from  the  cupboard,  "  although  he  is  spoiled 
enough  ;  but  the  train  of  people  whom  he  is  obliged  to 
drag  about  with  him!  There  is  Frau  von  Berg,  her 
maid,  and  a  child's  nurse,  with  several  men-servants ; 
all  must  be  provided  for.  And  the  child,  the  child  1 
Such  a  poor  little  creature  has  never  been  seen  before 
within  the  walls  of  Neuhaus, — no,  never!  Heavens! 
what  would  Ulrich  Gerold,  my  sturdy  grandfather  of 
blessed  memory,  have  said  to  it?  'Worthless  brats' 
he  used  to  call  such  bloodless  little  things.  Positively, 
the  child  cannot  stand  on  its  little  spindle-legs,  and  it  is 
nearly  two  years  old.  Baths  of  wild  thyme  and  fresh 
milk  would  do  the  poor  little  creature  good,  but  none 
of  us  dare  to  interfere  with  Frau  von  Berg's  compli- 
cated method  of  treatment;  she  is  as  infallible  as  the 
Pope.  Lothar's  mother-in-law,  the  old  Princess  Thekla, 
engaged  her  to  take  charge  of  her  grand-daughter,  and 


46  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

seems  to  be  fairly  in  love  with  the  fat,  disagreeable 
creature,  who  is  utterly  distasteful  to  me." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  poured  the  steaming 
coffee  into  the  cups,  and  sat  down,  whereupon  Clau- 
dine  explained  the  purpose  of  her  visit. 

Beata  stirred  the  coffee  in  her  cup  and  listened  in 
silence,  but  when  it  came  to  the  discovery  she  looked 
up  and  laughed.  "What!  wax?  And  I  was  fancying 
that  old  Heinemann  bad  found  a  chest-full  of  gold  and 
silver  church-vessels!  Wax!  Well,  after  all,  Ben 
Akiva  was  wrong:  this  is  new.  And  those  nuns,  who, 
the  poets  say,  were  mostly  pure,  white  roses,  pining, 
pale  and  emaciated,  behind  their  barred  windows  for 

the  joys  of  a  worldly  life "    She  laughed  again. 

"  The  Walpurgis  nuns  evidently  had  no  time  for  that. 
They  must  have  been  positive  elves  of  thrift  and  fru- 
gality. According  to  our  old  family  chronicle,  there 
were  two  Gerolds  among  the  nuns  when  they  were 
driven  out.  Who  knows  whether  they  were  not  the 
very  ones  who  descended  into  the  cellar  with  trowel 
and  mortar  to  wall  up  the  booty  from  the  rapacious 
rebels?  Who  knows?  I  would  have  done  it."  She 
shook  her  head,  smiling.  "  A  strange  story.  And  it  is 
almost  as  strange  that  I  should  have  sitting  before  me 
here  the  honest  creature  who  in  all  seriousness  pro- 
poses to  divide  the  treasure  with  us  disk  by  disk !"  A 
gleam  of  merriment  lit  up  her  strong  features.  "Yes, 
there  is  always  a  use  for  wax,  if  only  to  polish  up  a 
table,  or  to  make  one's  thread  smoother  and  stronger 
for  sewing.  But  I  am  not  the  one  to  be  consulted, 
dear  heart ;  you  must  discuss  it  with  Lothar." 

And  she  rose  and  left  the  room. 
Claudine  made  no  attempt  to  detain  her.     Although 
she   had   no   desire   for  further  intercourse  with  the 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  47 

'Herr  Baron  at  Neuhaus,'  she  was  aware  that  only 
thus  could  the  matter  be  finally  arranged,  and  she 
quietly  rose  as,  after  waiting  awhile,  she  heard  his 
steps  outside  in  the  hall. 

He  entered  with  his  sister.  At  court  Claudine  had 
never  seen  him  except  in  his  captain's  uniform,  bril- 
liant and  victorious  '  as  the  god  of  war,'  the  young 
court-beauties  had  declared  in  whispers.  To-day  he 
was  dressed  in  a  plain  suit  of  gray,  and  she  could  not 
but  admit,  as  she  had  done  to  herself  before  beneath 
the  lindens,  that  the  glittering  uniform  had  borne  but 
a  small  part  in  rendering  him  the  most  distinguished 
figure  at  court,  even  beside  the  dignified  and  chivalrio 
Duke. 

She  left  the  window,  and  would  have  spoken,  but  he 
raised  his  hand,  smiling,  and  said,  quickly,  "  No  need 
of  another  word ;  Beata  has  told  me  that  your  romantic 
Owl's  Nest  has  given  up  its  treasures, — the  ancient 
wealth  of  a  convent!  How  interesting!  Be  sure  it 
was  the  ghostly  hands  of  the  nuns  themselves  that 
loosened  the  stones  in  the  wall  because  the  true  owner 
had  come  at  last." 

Claudine  looked  surprised  at  the  bearded  lips  which 
uttered  such  pleasant  words.  "Was  this  the  man  who, 
at  the  side  of  the  Princess,  had  never  had  a  kindly 
word  for  his  kinswoman,  and  whose  dark  glance  had 
now  and  then  followed  the  new  lady-in-waiting  with 
ill-concealed  annoyance? 

Beata,  without  further  ado,  forced  her  back  to  the 
coffee-table.  "Come,  do  not  put  on  such  a  solemn 
air,  Claudine.  We  are  not  at  court.  Sit  down.  Your 
Cinderella  feet — '  the  pride  of  the  school' — do  you  re- 
member?— must  have  been  surprised  to  find  themselves 
expected  to  take  such  a  walk." 


48  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

With  a  blush  the  young  lady  hastily  resumed  her 
seat  at  the  table,  and  Beata  sat  down  beside  her,  while 
Baron  Lothar  stood  opposite,  leaning  upon  the  back  of 
a  chair. 

"  It  certainly  is  a  long  walk  through  the  depths  of 
the  forest,"  he  said,  in  assent  to  his  sister's  remark, — 
"  a  walk  which  no  lady  should  venture  to  take  alone. 
Are  you  not  afraid  of  encountering  some  rudeness?" 

"  I  have  no  fear.  I  used  to  be  as  much  at  home  in 
the  forest  as  in  our  nursery.  I  feel  rather  that  it 
protects  me  like  an  old  friend." 

"Yes,  I  am  just  such  another  tramp  through  thick 
and  thin  and  night  and  mist !"  Beata  said,  laughing. 
"We  are  children  of  the  Thuringian  forest.  But  the 
walk  was  really  too  rough  a  one  for  your  delicate 
feet,  Claudine " 

"  And  an  utterly  unnecessary  sacrifice  to  your  over- 
strained sense  of  justice,"  her  brother  interposed; 
"for  even  without  the  exercise  of  the  wisdom  of  Solo- 
mon we  cannot  but  decide  instantly  that  we  have  not 
the  faintest  claim  to  a  share  in  the  discovered  hoard. 
The  Owl's  Nest  has  been  for  many  years  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  Altenstein  branch.  How  could  we  go  far 
back  in  time  to  establish  such  a  claim,  when  if  we  thus 
investigate  the  past  we  must  atone  for  an  injustice? 
I  never  have  been  able  to  comprehend  how  my  grand- 
father could  consent  to  receive  a  very  valuable  piece 
of  cultivated  ground  in  exchange  for  that  worthless 
heap  of  ruins." 

"  My  opinion  exactly,"  Beata  observed,  with  an  ener- 
getic nod.  "No,  let  your  old  Heinemann  put  his  esti- 
mate of  his  discovery  to  the  proof.  An  annual  addition 
to  your  housekeeping  fund  will  not  be  unwelcome  to 
you " 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  49 

"  Practical  as  ever,  my  dear  Beata,"  said  Baron  Lo- 
thar;  "but  I  am  half  inclined  to  protest  against  such 
a  use  for  the  nuns'  legacy.  Would  it  not  be  more  poetic 
if  the  spoils  gathered  by  bees  in  ancient  times  from  the 
flowers  were  converted  into  precious  stones? — into  a 
diamond  necklace,  perhaps,  which  the  heiress  might 
wear  at  her  first  reappearance  at  court?"  he  added, 
carelessly,  with  a  glance  at  the  former  lady-in-waiting. 

She  raised  her  eyes;  her  glance  met  his.  "Stones 
for  bread?"  she  asked.  "The  delight  of  being  able  to 
banish  care  from  my  home  is  far  more  precious  to  me, 
and  therefore  I  am  '  practical'  like  Beata.  And  what 
should  I  do  at  court?  You  seem  not  to  know  that  I 
have  resigned  my  place " 

"  Oh,  the  very  birds  on  the  house-tops  in  the  capital 
chatter  about  that.  But  do  not  your  name  and  your 
coveted  position  as  prime  favourite  of  the  Dowager 
Duchess  give  you  the  right  to  go  to  court ?" 

"  From  the  lowly  Owl's  Nest?"  she  interrupted  him, 
with  quivering  lips  and  eyes  which  had  a  suspicion  of 
moisture  about  them. 

"  The  distance  is  certainly  too  great,"  he  admitted ; 
but  his  voice  sounded  harsh  and  stern,  as  if  he  had  a 
victim  in  his  power  whom  he  was  resolved  not  to  re- 
lease. "  Eight  hours  of  driving  by  the  road  !  Well, 
perhaps  the  court  will  find  some  means  of  shortening 
the  distance.  It  may  move  nearer  to  you " 

"How  could  that  be?"  exclaimed  Claudine,  startled. 
"Except  the  old  hunting-lodge,  '  Woodburn,'  the  ducal 
family  owns  nothing  habitable  in  our  vicinity." 

"And  the  moisture  is  absolutely  dripping  from  the 
walls  in  that  famous  Woodburn,  with  its  thi-ee  rooms," 
Beata  said,  with  a  laugh.     "  The  wind  will  blow  away 
the  whole  structure  one  of  these  days." 
c       d  5 


50  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

Baron  Lothar  was  silent  for  a  few  moments.  Ho 
began  to  pace  the  room  to  and  fro.  "  I  spent  a  few  hours 
in  the  capital,  to  let  the  Princess  Thekla  see  her  grand- 
child, the  day  before  yesterday,  on  my  way  hither," 
he  began  again,  "  and  there  I  heard  casually  of  some 
such  intention  on  the  part  of  the  Duke."  As  he  ut- 
tered the  last  word  he  suddenly  fixed  his  eyes  with 
an  inquiring,  half-hostile  expression  upon  Claudine's 
face,  which  flushed  crimson.  "  There  were  all  sorts  of 
explanations  and  surmises,"  he  went  on,  averting  his 
eyes  from  the  flushed  face,  and  smiling  contemptuously. 
"  You  know  what  court  gossip  is.  It  flits  like  moths 
out  of  every  corner,  and  can  neither  be  caught  nor 
arrested,  but  its  traces  are  to  be  seen  in  some  defaced 
reputation  or  other." 

Claudine  raised  her  head  at  these  words.  "  Yes,  I 
know  what  court  gossip  is,  but  I  have  never  conde- 
scended so  far  as  to  allow  it  to  exercise  any  influence 
upon  my  actions  or  opinions." 

"Brava,  old  school-mate!"  exclaimed  Beata.  "You 
certainly  have  come  back  untainted  from  that  atmos- 
phere." Her  clear  eyes  had  sharply  scanned  the  agitated 
face  of  each  speaker.  "But  let  us  drop  these  court 
reminiscences,"  she  added,  frowning.  "I  detest  gossip, 
whether  of  the  wash-tub  or  of  the  court;  both  are  alike 
vulgar.  Eather  tell  me,  Claudine,  how  you  are  suc- 
ceeding in  your  new  life." 

"It  certainly  was  hard  at  first,"  the  young  lady 
replied,  with  her  gentle  smile  in  which  there  was  apt 
to  be  a  tinge  of  melancholy.  "My  hands  and  my 
gown  bore  traces  of  my  awkwardness  in  the  kitchen. 
But  that  first  stage  is  fortunately  past,  and  I  now  can 
find  time  to  take  pleasure  in  our  quiet  life  and  in 
Joachim's  cheerful  face." 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  5] 

"  Indeed !  He  looks  on  cheerfully  at  your  perform- 
ance of — a  servant's  duties  ?"  The  Baron's  eyes  spoke 
contempt. 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  1  do  not  take  care  that  he 
shall  see  no  such  performance  on  my  part?"  she  re- 
joined, gayly,  seeming  to  ignore  his  sarcasm.  "  There 
needs  no  special  art  to  do  so,  I  assure  you.  Joachim  is 
busy  from  morning  until  night  over  his  work  upon 
Spain,  into  which  he  is  weaving  all  his  most  beautiful 
poems.  And  in  his  delight  in  such  labour  he  is  utterly 
unconscious  of  the  world  of  reality,  with  its  petty 
cares  and  anxieties.  He  is  one  who  sleeps  just  as  well 
upon  hard  boards  as  upon  a  soft  bed,  and  who  is  per- 
fectly content  to  live  upon  milk  and  brown  bread. 
What  his  nature  needs  is  affection,  intelligent  sym- 
pathy, and  these  he  always  finds  when  he  comes  down 
to  us  from  his  bell-room.  Yes,  I  am  sure  I  compre- 
hend the  task  set  for  me.  Joachim  is  a  genuine  poet 
confided  to  my  care  by  no  less  a  person  than  the  Muse 
herself."  She  rose  and  took  up  her  hat  and  gloves. 
"And  now  I  must  go  home  and  make  an  omelette  for 
supper.  Don't  laugh,  Beata," — she  joined  heartily  for  a 
moment  in  her  school-mate's  merriment, — "  my  good 
Linden meyer  is  very  proud  of  the  skill  of  her  pupil 
in  turning  an  omelette." 

"  Your  old  Princess  ought  to  see  it." 

"It  would  please  her,  I  know.  She  is  a  German 
woman ;  the  housewifely  element  is  in  her  blood,  born 
in  the  purple  though  she  be." 

"Do  you  suppose  it  would  please  her  if  she  were 
suddenly  compelled  to  exchange  her  audience-chamber 
for  the  kitchen  fire  ?  The  contrasts  of  light  and  shade 
which  you  have  experienced  are  too  harsh.  My  heart  is 
sore  to-day." 


52  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  No,  indeed,  Beata,"  her  brother  interrupted  her, 
with  evident  irony.  "  This  time  of  trial  will  not  last 
long.  It  is  only  a  transition-period.  Before  you  are 
aware  of  it  a  sunny  splendour  will  envelop  the  shaded 
flower, — a  burst  of  sunshine  for  which  all  the  roses  of 
Shiraz  would  envy  it." 

The  brother  and  sister  had,  unperceived  by  Claudine, 
exchanged  a  look  of  intelligence,  and  as  he  uttered  the 
last  words  Baron  Lothar  bowed  and  hastily  left  the 
room. 

"He  talks  nonsense,"  said  Beata,  shrugging  her 
shoulders,  as  she  went  to  the  door  leading  into  the  next 
room.  "Wait  a  moment,  Claudine,  while  I  get  ready 
for  a  walk ;  I  should  like  to  go  part  of  the  way  with 
you." 


Claudine  again  walked  to  the  window.  Her  cheeks 
burned,  and  there  was  a  frown  on  her  brow.  How 
great  must  be  the  malice  of  those  in  the  ducal  castle 
who  could  malign  her  after  she  had  courageously 
taken  a  step  prescribed  by  her  self-respect  1  And  how 
had  she  so  offended  and  irritated  the  man  who  had 
just  left  the  room,  that  he  had  dared  to  outrage  and 
embitter  her  but  lately  soothed  consciousness  by  offen- 
sive remarks  uttered  apparently  in  jest  ? 

Outside  and  tolerably  near  the  window  stood  the 
child's  carriage  in  which  his  little  girl  was  lying.  Was 
he  wreaking  upon  others  his  disappointment  in  the  loss 
of  the  high-born  wife  who  had  lent  such  material 
splendour  to  his  existence?  He  might  well  bewail  his 
fate.  She  had  been  snatched  from  him  forever,  and  all 
that  was  left  of  her  lay  there  frail  and  feeble,  while 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  53 

the  wealth  which  she  had  possessed  was  powerless  to 
give  to  her  child  sufficient  strength  to  enable  it  to 
stand !  What  a  strife  there  had  been  already  about 
that  puny  little  creature !  Its  grandmother,  the  Prin- 
cess Thekla,  who  was  inconsolable  for  the  loss  of  her 
favourite  daughter,  had  been  to  Italy  herself  to  obtain 
possession  of  the  child,  but  Baron  Lothar  had  refused 
peremptorily  to  accede  to  her  desire.  It  was  whispered 
at  court  that  the  old  lady  was  now  scheming  to  bestow 
upon  her  son-in-law  her  second  daughter,  the  Princess 
Helena,  for  his  second  wife,  in  order  that  her  beloved 
grandchild  might  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  a  strange 
step-mother ;  and  there  were  certain  knowing  ones  who 
maintained  that  the  young  Princess  would  not  say  '  no' 
to  such  an  arrangement,  since  even  before  her  sister's 
marriage  she  had  cherished  a  secret  inclination  for  her 
handsome  future  brother-in-law.  The  Princess  Helena 
was  prettier  than  her  sister  had  been,  but  she,  too,  had 
the  large,  glittering,  bead-like  eyes  with  which  the 
child  outside  there  was  staring  fixedly  up  into  the 
linden  boughs.  It  lay  stretched  out  among  the  white 
pillows,  its  thin  little  fingers  plucking  nervously  at  the 
blue  satin  of  the  coverlet,  while  an  old  child's-nurse 
sat  beside  the  carriage,  knitting,  and  talking  to  the 
child  incessantly. 

The  noise  of  wheels  startled  the  young  lady,  and 
at  that  instant  Beata,  dressed  for  out  of  doors,  re- 
entered  the  room.  She  took  from  the  table  the  basket 
of  strawberries  and  hung  it  on  her  arm.  "  For  your 
little  Elizabeth,"  she  said  to  Claudine,  while  a  faint 
carmine  tinged  her  cheek. 

Before  the  hall  door  a  light  open  carriage  was  stand- 
ing. Baron  Lothar  was  on  the  box,  holding  the  reins. 

"  Get  in  quickly,  dear,"  Beata  insisted,  as  Claudine, 
5* 


54  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

dismayed,  hesitated  upon  the  door-step,  evidently  averse 
to  accept  such  an  attention  at  Neuhaus.  "  Those  gay 
fellows" — she  pointed  to  the  horses,  beautiful  young 
animals,  dancing  with  impatience — "are  snorting  like 
the  steeds  of  the  god  of  day,  and  would  like  to  run 
away  with  us." 

Immediately  afterwards  the  carriage  was  rolling 
swiftly  along  beneath  the  lindens  and  on  the  open 
road.  Baron  Lothar  guided  his  fiery  span  with  easy 
grace,  and  scanned  with  interest,  as  he  drove  along, 
the  fields  of  rye  and  wheat  and  the  budding  fruit  on 
the  fruit-trees  on  either  side  of  the  road.  But  never 
once  did  he  glance  toward  the  occupants  of  the  seat 
behind  him.  He  had  seen  Claudine's  hesitation,  and 
had  read  her  unwillingness  in  her  eyes.  She  knew  it, 
for  her  look  had  met  his,  and  she  had  seen  a  sarcasm 
in  it  which  had  sent  the  blood  to  her  cheeks ;  but  there 
was  no  help  for  it,  they  were  forced  to  drive  together — 
Montagues  and  Capulets — in  the  same  carriage,  which, 
with  its  light  satin  cushions  and  its  glittering,  elegant 
appointments,  dashed  through  the  Paulinenthal  like  an 
embodied  ray  of  splendour  from  the  court. 

Filled  with  the  fragrance  of  forest  and  meadow, 
bathed  in  the  golden  glow  of  the  late  afternoon  sun, 
the  lovely,  spacious  valley  lay  extended  around  them, 
a  luxuriant  landscape,  watered  by  the  winding  stream 
that  had  its  source  far  up  among  the  mountains. 
Rippling  and  dimpling,  now  creeping  darkly  beneath 
drooping  willows,  now  rushing  swiftly  in  the  broad 
sunshine  between  flowery  banks,  it  pursued  its  course, 
the  guilty  stream  that  had  repeatedly  been  transformed 
by  the  spring  freshets  into  a  roaring  beast  of  prey. 
Who,  to  see  it  now,  would  dream  that  it  bad  devoured 
80  large  a  portion  of  the  Gerold  wealth  ? 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  0& 

The  country-people  were  at  work  in  all  directions. 
The  scythe  of  the  mower  swept  shining  through  the 
rustling  grass ;  in  the  furrows  of  the  potato-fields  long 
lines  of  women  were  wielding  the  hoe,  and  on  the 
borders  of  the  stream  and  along  the  hedge-rows  bare- 
footed girls  were  driving  before  them  their  goats  and 
geese,  and  knitting  as  they  walked.  From  the  forests 
on  the  hill-side  echoed  the  measured  stroke  of  the 
woodman's  axe.  There  was  many  a  hearty  greeting 
exchanged  between  those  thus  labouring  and  the  occu- 
pants of  the  carriage,  and  it  occurred  to  Claudine  for 
the  first  time  that  Beata  and  herself  had  no  cause  for 
shame  in  the  presence  of  hard-handed  labour.  They 
were  not  useless  lilies  of  the  field,  nor  drones  in  the 
hive ;  they  each  laboured  also,  the  one  from  an  inborn 
impulse  to  industry,  the  other  for  the  sake  of  her  own 
self-respect,  and  that  she  might  promote  the  welfare 
of  those  dear  to  her. 

For  a  brief  moment  the  huge  slated  roof  of  the 
Altenstein  Geroldscourt  was  visible  behind  the  trees 
of  the  garden.  The  flag-staff  was  but  a  bare  pole  ;  the 
much-lamented  lost  home  as  yet  sheltered  no  new  in- 
mates. But  along  the  road  came  a  heavily-laden  fur- 
niture-wagon, followed  by  another  occupied  solely  by 
a  grand  piano. 

"  Our  new  neighbour  is  moving  in,  it  seems,"  said 
Beata,  as  if  to  herself,  scanning  the  passing  wagons 
with  a  keen  glance. 

At  this  moment  Baron  Lothar  turned  hastily  to 
Claudine.  "You  know  who  has  bought  the  estate?" 
His  tone,  breaking  the  silence  he  bad  hitherto  main- 
tained, was  that  of  a  judge  attempting  to  surprise  a 
delinquent  in  an  unguarded  moment. 

"  How  should  I  know  ?"  she  replied,  rather  sharply, 


56  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

irritated  by  his  tone.  "  We  are  trying  to  forget  that 
•we  ever  were  at  home  on  this  side  of  the  forest,  and 
certainly  we  have  no  interest  in  our  successors." 

"Nobody  in  the  valley  knows  as  yet,  Lothar,"  said 
Beata.  "  The  biggest  gossips  in  the  village  find  that 
nut  too  hard  for  their  teeth.  I  have  a  secret  dread  lest 
some  rich  manufacturer  should  be  the  purchaser,  and 
my  fear  was  strengthened  by  my  glimpse  of  those 
wagons  just  now.  Such  people  revel  in  luxury  I 
Dreadful!  Smoky  factory-chimneys  in  our  beautiful 
quiet  valley!" 

Baron  Lothar  had  turned  away  again,  and  made  no 
reply.  The  carriage  rolled  on,  now  along  the  forest 
road,  where  Beata,  noticing  how  the  boughs  of  the 
trees  arched  above  mossy  beds  sown  with  wild-flowers 
and  fanned  by  waving  ferns,  observed  that  she  should 
think  any  one  with  lungs  irritated  by  the  dust  of  the 
capital  would  be  glad  indeed  to  stretch  weary  limbs 
on  such  a  couch.  She  sat  with  the  basket  of  straw- 
berries in  her  lap,  covered  with  a  napkin  to  shield  the 
fragrant  fruit  from  the  sun.  The  drive  was  a  shorter 
one  than  that  taken  some  weeks  before  in  a  hack. 

"  Look  how  exquisitely  your  Owl's  Nest  has  decked 
itself!"  Beata  exclaimed,  surprised,  as  the  little  en- 
closure came  in  sight.  "  I  have  not  been  here  since 
my  last  visit  to  you  and  your  grandmother.  It  has 
actually  covered  itself  with  a  mantle  of  green." 

She  was  right.  In  the  last  years  of  her  life  the 
late  owner  of  the  spot  had  planted  wild  vines  around 
the  tower.  A  couple  of  weeks  previously  the  tender 
green  of  spring  had  tinged  the  net-work  of  tendrils 
and  shoots  that  clung  to  the  old  structure,  and  now 
all  was  in  full  leaf  and  the  windows  looked  out  from 
a  luxuriant  screen.  The  vines  had  crept  up  to  the 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  57 

platform  connecting  tower  and  dwelling-room,  bad 
wreathed  about  tbe  glass  door,  and  bung  over  tbe 
balustrade  like  a  green  carpet. 

Heinemann  bad  just  been  showing  a  bird's  nest  in 
a  syringa-bush  to  little  Elizabeth,  and  the  child  was 
still  in  his  arms  as  he  advanced  to  meet  the  carriage, 
his  bushy  eyebrows  elevated  in  wonder  not  unmixed 
with  dread  lest  '  they  should  have  come  back  with 
Fraulein  Claudine  to  claim  their  share.' 

The  carriage  stopped.  The  old  gardener  opened  the 
door  with  a  low  bow,  but  his  young  mistress  alone 
alighted.  Beata  sat  still,  and  handed  the  strawber- 
ries to  the  child  still  in  Heinemann's  arms.  Claudine 
observed  with  surprise  a  beautiful,  tender  smile  illumine 
the  grave  face  of  her  school-mate,  and  the  child  seemed 
aware  that  this  sunbeam  was  a  rare  one,  for  the  little 
thing  suddenly  leaned  towards  Beata  and  threw  her 
arms  around  her  neck.  Then  with  a  laugh  of  delight 
she  took  the  basket  from  the  'big  hands'  which  she 
had  so  lately  pushed  away  from  her  favourite  doll,  and 
scrambled  down  out  of  Heinemann's  arms  to  run  to 
the  house. 

Beata  arranged  with  the  mistress  of  the  Owl's  Nest 
for  another  visit  in  a  short  time, — '  a  tramp  through 
the  woods  that  would  drive  all  housekeeping  worries 
out  of  one's  head,' — and  then  the  carriage  drove  off. 

Baron  Lothar  did  not  again  address  Claudine,  but 
he  bowed  low  as  he  drove  away  and  spoke  a  few 
kindly  words  to  the  old  gardener. 

"  Well,  well,  upon  my  word !  I'm  no  friend  of  the 
Neuhausers,  not  at  all ;  quite  the  contrary !  They 
have  more  luck  than  wisdom,  and  the  Altensteiners 
must  strike  sail  to  them, — more's  the  pity!"  said  Heine- 
mann, shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  looking  with 


58  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

keen  interest  after  the  retreating  carriage.  "  But  his 
worst  enemy  must  admit  that  he's  a  fine  figure  of 
a  soldier,  even  in  that  simple  gray  coat.  I've  been  a 
soldier  too, — in  the  infantry,  Fraulein  Claudine, — and 
I  know  what  an  officer  should  be.  When  that  man 
rides  at  the  head  of  his  squadron  the  fellows  will  sit 
square  and  straight  on  their  horses,  I  warrant  me. 
What  he  is  inside  every  one'  knows, — haughty  enough, 
and  mightily  stuck-up  with  his  fine  marriage.  As  for 
this," — he  made  as  though  he  were  counting  out 
money  with  his  thumb  and  forefinger,  looking  up  the 
while  in  eager  inquiry  into  his  young  mistress's  face, — 
"eh,  I  suppose  he'll  take  what  he  can  get?" 

Claudine  smiled.  "  You  may  rest  easy,  Heinemann ; 
your  discovery  can  be  disposed  of  as  you  please " 

"  What !  Eeally  ?  Those  people  are  not  going  to 
take  any  of  it  ?"  He  was  nearly  dancing  with  joy. 
"  It's  a  weight  off  my  heart,  a  hundred-weight  I  I  was 
terribly  worried  about  it.  But  that's  over,  thank  God  I 
Now  you  shall  see,  Fraulein  Claudine,  what  old  Heine- 
mann can  do.  I'll  wile  the  pennies  out  of  the  pocket 
of  that  rich  old  Bolz,  that  fellow  in  the  capital  who 
can  never  get  enough  wax  from  the  bee-men  about 
the  country  here.  We  can  use  them  all ;  we  need  them 
now  when  we  are  likely  to  have  plenty  of  fine  visitors. 
It  ought  not  to  look  poverty-stricken  in  the  house 
here;  we  owe  it  to  my  dear  old  mistress  to  have 
things  furbished  up.  I'll  take  the  good  pewter  to  the 
tinker  to-morrow ;  he  must  freshen  it.  We  need  a  new 
sream-jug,  too;  and  suppose  we  get  a  new  set  of  cur- 
tains for  the  sitting-room  ?  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer 
worked  away  mending  for  a  week  after  the  last  wash, 
but,  finely  as  she  does  it,  some  weak  places  will  show 
here  and  there." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  59 

"But  what  in  the  world  is  it  all  for?"  Claudine 
asked.  "  Fraulein  Beata " 

"  Oh,  who  cares  for  her?  She  herself  stitches  and 
mends  old  rags  together  and  hangs  them  up  at  the 
windows  again ;  she's  saving  and  frugal  enough,  and 
never  would  turn  up  her  nose  at  a  darn  !"  With  his 
thumb  he  pointed  over  his  shoulder  to  Fraulein  Lin- 
denmeyer's  corner-room.  "  She's  in  there  now, — the 
forester's  wife  from  Oberlauter,  the  village  gossip,  who 
gets  all  the  news  hot  and  hot  from  the  capital,  and  car- 
ries it  about  from  house  to  house  in  her  knitting-bag 
until  it  grows  stale.  Wait  till  you  get  to  the  house, 
Fraulein  Claudine ;  you'll  smell  the  chocolate,  good 
vanilla,  which  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  has  been  brewing 
a  pot  of  in  honour  of  her  rare  visitor.  It's  so  thick  the 
spoon  will  stand  upright  in  it.  Hm  I  And  to-morrow 
morning  our  old  Ma'amselle  will  be  in  bed  with  in- 
digestion ;  but  that's  no  business  of  mine.  The  news 
which  our  fine  postilion  in  petticoats  has  brought  us 
to-day  is  really  worth  a  little  discomfort ;  our  Duke 
himself  has  bought  our  dear,  beautiful  Altenstein 
Geroldscourt." 

Claudine  was  still  standing  by  the  yew-tree  at  the 
entrance  to  the  garden.  With  a  sudden  start  she 
clutched  a  bough,  as  if  needing  support.  The  blood 
rushed  to  her  face,  and  then  retreated,  leaving  it  ghastly 
pale. 

"  Oh,  dear  heaven,  how  I  have  shocked  her  1"  ex- 
claimed Heinemann,  startled,  and  putting  out  his  arm  to 
sustain  her.  "  Old  fool  that  I  am !  But  there  is  noth- 
ing to  be  done  now,  nothing !  And  is  it  not  a  thousand 
times  better  that  Geroldscourt  should  fall  into  such 
hands  than  to  have  some  rich  manufacturer  set  up 
his  spinning-jennies  in  the  halls  and  chambers  ?  And 


60  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

then  your  pleasures,  Fraulein  Claud ine.  Ask  those 
down  below  there" — he  pointed  to  the  ground  beneath 
his  feet,  the  ancient  church-yard  of  the  nuns — "  if  every 
one  of  them  would  not  have  escaped  with  delight  from 
the  lonely  forest  if  a  hole  could  have  been  found  in  the 
high  walls.  You  see,  that  is  the  best  of  it ;  you  will 
get  back  to  your  associates,  to  your  own  element. 
Why,  every  flower  needs  its  own  special  soil.  The  en- 
tire court  will  come  for  the  summer  to  the  Altenstein 
estate.  The  Duke  is  going  to  have  a  dairy  expressly 
for  his  young  wife ;  they  say  she  has  the  consumption, 
poor  little  lady,  and  that  cows'  breath  is  good  for  her. 
God  bless  me  I  that  remedy  is  like  musk  for  Hodge  as 
he  breathes  his  last." 

The  young  lady  slowly  and  silently  entered  the  gar- 
den and  walked  towards  the  house,  her  pale  lips  com- 
pressed. Heinemann  watched  her  anxiously.  There 
were  signs  of  suffering  that  puzzled  him  in  the  lovely 
face  with  which  he  had  been  familiar  ever  since  its 
deep  blue  eyes  first  opened  upon  the  world.  It  was 
not  distress  for  the  lost  home,  as  he  had  thought  at  first : 
it  looked  rather  as  though  she  were  struggling  with 
some  dark  power  within — as  though  there  were  a  con- 
flict in  the  soul,  while  the  lips  were  mute.  He  saw  it 
in  the  proud  carriage  of  the  head,  in  the  involuntary 
gesture.  She  seemed  to  have  quite  forgotten  his  pres 
ence. 

Not  another  word  did  he  say,  but  busied  himself 
among  his  vegetables.  Only  when  she  seemed  about 
to  enter  the  house  did  he  approach  her  and  ask  for 
leave  of  absence  for  the  following  day,  '  because  of  the 
wax.'  She  nodded  with  a  languid  smile  and  went  in. 

Up  in  her  own  quiet  room,  she  sank  on  a  chair  and 
clasped  her  hands  before  her  face.  Had  it  all  been  in 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  61 

vain  ?  Would  persecution  pursue  her  whithersoever  she 
took  refuge  ?  No,  no ;  she  was  not  so  helpless  and  un- 
protected as  she  had  been  weeks  before.  Was  not  her 
brother  with  her  ?  And  could  she  not  say  now,  "  My 
house  is  my  castle.  I  can,  and  I  will,  close  its  doors  to 
every  one  who  has  no  right  to  cross  my  threshold"  ? 


The  next  morning  Heinemann  took  his  way  early  to 
town.  Beside  him  trotted  a  boy  from  the  village  with 
a  hand-barrow  laden  with  fresh  vegetables  for  the  old 
gardener's  customers  ;  the  expedition  to  the  town  was 
to  be  made  as  profitable  as  possible.  The  pewter-ware 
was,  indeed,  left  at  home,  and  he  had  been  positively 
forbidden  to  bu}*  new  curtains.  From  time  to  time  he 
looked  back  with  some  anxiety  at  the  house,  as  long  as 
it  could  be  seen  through  the  trees.  His  peevish  fore- 
bodings had  proved  correct.  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer 
had  the  headache;  she  was  in  bed  and  needed  nursing. 
He  would  gladly  have  stayed  at  home,  but  the  vege- 
tables had  been  cut  in  the  early  morning  and  must  not 
go  to  waste. 

His  young  mistress  was  left  alone,  he  reflected,  for 
the  occupant  of  the  bell-room  counted  for  nothing. 
Once  let  him  take  up  his  pen,  and  the  world  of  reality 
had  no  existence  for  him  ;  everything  around  him 
might  burn  up  if  only  the  bell-room  were  left  standing 
and  his  ink  did  not  run  dry.  This  conviction  in  Heine- 
mann's  mind  gave  rise  to  no  depreciation  of  Herr  von 
G-erold ;  on  the  contrary,  the  old  man  greatly  admired 
him ;  but  in  his  eyes  the  learned  gentleman  was  one  to 
be  taken  care  of  and  watched  like  the  innocent  little 
Elizabeth. 

6 


62  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"Well,  he  had  done  his  best  to  lighten  his  young  mi& 
tress's  labours  for  the  day.  He  had  milked  the  goats, 
brought  in  the  fresh  eggs  from  the  nests,  picked  the 
peas  for  dinner,  piled  kindling-wood  on  the  hearth, 
swept  the  stairs,  and  placed  the  homoeopathic  medicine- 
box  on  the  table  in  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer's  room,  with 
a  paper  of  directions  beside  it  in  his  own  handwriting. 
Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  had  the  greatest  confidence  in 
his  medical  capacity.  As  he  was  quite  unaccustomed 
to  close  the  garden  gate,  let  alone  latch  it,  he  left  it 
ajar.  The  dog,  whose  kennel  was  near  the  fence,  was 
sure  to  bark  if  it  creaked  upon  its  hinges ;  and  what 
was  there  to  steal  in  the  garden  ?  The  chickens  were 
confined  behind  high  palisades,  and  the  cat  prowled 
about  the  ruins  and  the  forest  as  she  chose.  The  old 
man  never  thought  of  little  Elizabeth.  She  was  usually 
his  inseparable  companion  in  the  garden,  prattling  to 
him  indefatigably  as  he  worked ;  he  was  always  ready 
to  talk  to  her  and  to  answer  her  questions,  only  paus- 
ing now  and  then  from  his  labours  to  brush  the  earth 
from  his  hard,  horny  hands  that  he  might  set  her  hat 
straight  on  her  curls,  or  smooth  her  doll's  dishevelled 
locks.  He  had  never  known  the  child  to  go  as  far  as 
the  gate  by  herself;  and  Claudine,  too,  thought  her 
afraid  of  the  dog  chained  near  by,  and  so  went  about 
her  household  tasks  with  an  easy  mind,  while  the  little 
one  was  playing  in  the  garden.  She  heard  the  doll's 
carriage  rolling  on  the  gravel  pa-th,  and  smiled  on  hear- 
ing the  child's  voice,  now  raised  admonishingly  and 
now  gently  soothing  her  charge. 

Thus  it  drew  on  to  noon ;  the  heat  increased ;  only 
at  long  intervals  did  a  single  floating  cloud,  like  some 
giant  bird,  cast  a  beneficent  shadow  for  a  few  moments 
upon  the  flowers,  hanging  their  heads  in  the  sultry  air. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  63 

Claudine  went  to  the  window  and  called  the  child  ; 
but  the  silence  outside,  whence  came  no  reply,  startled 
her.  The  dog  rattled  his  chain  as  he  crept  out  of  his 
close  kennel,  and  pricked  his  ears  at  the  sound  of  her 
voice.  The  child  was  not  to  be  seen. 

Still,  Claudine  was  not  anxious ;  the  little  one  often 
went  directly  up  from  the  garden  to  the  bell-room  to 
carry  her  father  some  flowers  or  an  apronful  of  won- 
derful stones.  Claudine  hastened  up  there ;  but  in  the 
cool,  darkened  tower-chamber  her  brother  was  sitting 
alone  at  the  northern  window  so  absorbed  in  his  work 
that  he  only  shook  his  head  absently  with  a  loving 
glance  at  the  intruder  in  answer  to  her  inquiry,  and 
then  went  on  writing.  Nor  was  the  child  in  Fraulein 
Lindenmeyer's  room ;  and  Claudine,  now  anxious  in- 
deed, flew  down  into  the  garden. 

The  doll's  carriage  was  in  the  arbour,  the  wax  face 
of  the  baby-doll  covered  carefully  with  the  child's 
apron,  which  she  had  taken  off,  but  the  little  nurse 
was  not  there.  Nor  was  she  in  the  corner  of  the  clois- 
ters with  the  goats  and  the  chickens,  nor  in  the  ruined 
chapel,  where  she  loved  to  tumble  about  upon  the 
grass  and  pluck  daisies  for  the  'poor  ladies,'  as  she 
called  the  carven  stone  figures  of  nuns  and  abbesses  on 
the  mossy  gravestones,  now  for  the  most  part  leaning 
against  the  old  walls.  Claudine  called  her  and  sought 
her  in  vain. 

As  she  looked  over  the  picket-fence  along  the  forest 
road  she  saw  a  scarlet  peony  lying  there,  and  instantly 
she  knew  that  the  child  must  have  left  the  garden 
and  dropped  it.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation  she 
ran  out  and  down  the  road. 

Its  course  stretched  out  into  the  distance  lonely  and 
quiet ;  the  highway  was  near  enough  to  be  preferred 


64  TEE   OWL'S   NEST. 

to  this  forest  pathway,  and  its  silence  was  seldom 
broken  by  the  noise  of  wheels.  There  was  no  fear 
that  the  child  would  be  run  over.  She  must  have 
made  a  raid  upon  Heinemann's  beds,  and  her  little 
hands  had  evidently  had  more  flowers  in  them  than 
they  could  carry,  for  here  and  there  a  dropped  pansy 
or  spray  of  jessamine  showed  where  she  had  passed 
along. 

She  must  have  been  gone  for  a  considerable  time,  at 
least  Claudine  seemed  to  have  walked  on  for  an  endless 
distance.  Tears  of  anxiety  filled  her  eyes,  and  her  heart 
throbbed  as  though  it  would  burst.  At  last  she  found 
on  the  ground  the  little  hat  of  the  favourite  doll 
Lena,  near  the  thicket  that  bordered  the  road.  What 
if  the  child  had  plunged  into  its  depths  and  were 
wandering  there  lost !  Claudine  was  just  about  to  put 
forth  all  her  strength  in  a  loud  call,  when  she  heard, 
not  very  far  off,  the  sound  of  childish  prattle  mingling 
with  manly  tones ;  it  came  from  where  the  road  made 
so  sharp  a  turn  that  the  woods  hid  it  from  sight. 
Involuntarily  she  clasped  her  hands  upon  her  heart 
and  listened.  Yes,  it  was  Baron  Lothar  who  was 
speaking,  and  the  child  was  with  him.  A  few  more 
hurried  steps,  and  she  came  in  sight  of  the  pair. 

Baron  Lothar  was  walking,  his  horse's  bridle  over 
his  left  arm,  while  he  carried  the  little  truant  on  his 
right.  Her  hat  hung  down  behind  her  head,  and  her 
fair  curls  lay  in  dishevelled  masses  on  her  forehead 
and  about  her  flushed  cheeks.  She  must  have  paid 
dear  already  for  her  heroic  enterprise,  for  her  eyes 
were  red  with  crying;  but  even  in  her  terror  and  help- 
lessness she  had  clung  to  her  beloved  Lena.  The  doll 
was  clasped  tight  to  her  breast  with  one  arm,  while 
the  other  was  about  Lothar's  neck. 


THK  OWL'S  NEST.  65 

She  cried  out  when  she  saw  her  beautiful  aunt 
suddenly  approaching.  "  I  wanted  to  take  the  straw- 
berry-lady some  flowers,  but  it  was  so  far, — so  farl 
And  Lena  has  lost  her  pretty  new  hat,"  she  called  out, 
unclasping  her  arm  from  the  neck  of  her  bearer,  as 
if  to  flee  to  her  aunt's  protection,  but  she  was  held 
tight. 

"  No,  stay  with  me,  child,"  said  Baron  Lothar.  She 
put  down  her  head  like  a  startled  bird,  and  looked 
timidly  into  the  bearded  face  close  to  her  own ;  the  tone 
of  command  was  new  to  her.  "  It  is  your  own  fault, 
little  gypsy,"  he  went  on  to  the  child,  with  an  expres- 
sive glance  at  the  agitated  face  and  tearful  ej-es  of  the 
lovely  maid  of  honour,  who  was  standing  before  him, 
breathless,  and  trying  to  express  her  thanks.  "  Oh, 
you  are  very  ready  to  forsake  me  now,  with  never 
a  thought  whether  those  arms  are  able  to  carry 
you!  You  cannot  run  another  step  on  your  poor 
tired  little  legs !  No,  no,  let  her  alone !"  he  went  on  to 
Claudine,  who  raised  her  arms  to  take  his  burden  from 
him.  "  She  is  no  more  weight  for  me  than  if  a  grass- 
hopper had  lighted  on  my  arm.  Come,  little  one,  put 
your  arm  around  my  neck  again,  and  don't  look  at 
me  so  timidly ;  my  beard  did  not  frighten  you  before. 
See  how  good  and  obedient  my  horse  is,  walking  be- 
side me! — and  there  is  the  unfortunate  hat  that  has 
cost  you  such  bitter  tears." 

The  child  laughed  with  delight  as  Claudine  put  the 
hat  on  the  doll's  head  and  tied  it  tightly. 

Baron  Lothar  looked  at  the  two  slender  hands, 
whose  beauty  had  been  so  admired  at  court,  and  upon 
one  of  which,  as  they  tied  the  strings  of  the  little  hat, 
a  dark  stain  was  plainly  visible. 

" '  Eust-stains  are  no  disgi-ace,'  my  old  Heinemann 
«  6* 


66  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

says,"  she  stammered,  as  she  hastily  finished  tying  the 
strings. 

"  No,  no  disgrace.  But  that  they  should  be  there ! 
Was  there  really  no  one  to  be  found  in  the  Owl's  Nest 
who  could  save  you  from  such  rude  contact  ?"  An 
incredulous,  half-contemptuous  smile  was  on  his  face. 
"  Will  there  not  surely  come  a  time  when  the  remem- 
brance of  such  stains  may  be  felt  as  a  reproach  ?" 
His  ardent  eyes  never  left  her  face. 

She  looked  at  him  with  haughty  indignation.  "  Has 
the  gossip  of  the  court  also  informed  you  that  I  am  false, 
and  fond  of  acting  a  farce?"  she  asked.  "Must  I  state 
to  you  expressly  the  painful  fact  that  my  brother — 
although,  thank  God !  with  every  debt  paid — has  been 
driven  from  his  house  and  land,  a  beggar  ?  We  can  no 
longer  afford  to  keep  a  servant,  and  I  am  now  perfectly 
aware  that  this  involves  no  great  amount  of  self-denial. 
These  stains" — she  looked  down  at  her  hands — "  can 
be  no  reproach  in  my  eyes,  except  as  they  bear  wit- 
ness to  my  awkwardness,  and  that  grows  less  from  day 
to  day."  She  smiled  brightly,  for  she  saw  a  dark  flush 
mount  to  his  forehead,  and  she  could  not  reprove  more 
severely  the  man  who  was  carrying  so  tenderly  her 
tired  little  darling.  "I  shall  soon  have  no  cause  to  be 
ashamed ;  and  really  yesterday  evening  I  might  with- 
out fear  have  invited  Beata,  the  careful,  to  share  my 
ridiculed  omelette " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,  and  beg  to  tender  my  apology,"  he 
interrupted  her,  bowing  low  with  sarcastic  deference. 
"  You  not  only  seem  Cinderella,  you  are  really  the 
maiden  herself.  A  man  can  hardly  imagine  the  charm 
of  such  a  situation,  but  doubtless  there  is  one  in  donning 
the  gray  chrysalis  from  which,  later,  the  brilliant  butter- 
fly will  emerge  to  flutter  its  wings  in  the  sunshine." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  67 

She  was  silent,  dreading  the  sound  of  her  own  voice 
should  she  so  much  as  allude  to  that  which  she  kept 
hidden  away  in  the  depths  of  her  consciousness,  but  to 
which  he  seemed  obstinately  bent  upon  referring.  The 
expression  of  his  eager,  manly  face  agitated  her  against 
her  will. 

She  stepped  aside  to  allow  him  to  pass,  and  he  walked 
on  beneath  the  overhanging  beeches.  For  a  while  there 
was  no  sound  save  of  his  tread  and  of  the  tramp  of  the 
horse  patiently  following  him;  the  silence  was  finally 
broken  by  little  Elizabeth's  apostrophizing  the  '  dear, 
good  horse.' 

"She  is  not  the  least  like  her  brunette  Spanish 
mother,  this  blond  little  maiden,"  said  Baron  Lothar, 
looking  at  the  charming  little  face  leaning  towards  the 
horse.  "  She  has  the  Altenstein  eyes.  At  Neuhaus 
there  is  a  picture  of  my  great-grandmother,  who,  you 
know,  was  an  Altenstein.  Wild  as  I  was  as  a  boy,  and 
little  as  I  cared  for  the  stiff  portraits  on  the  walls,  I 
always  was  attracted  by  that  large  picture  hanging  in 
our  state  drawing-room  upon  the  occasions  when  it 
was  thrown  open.  Ulrich,  who  was  Duke  in  her  day, 
called  her  '  the  lily  of  the  valley.'  But  she  was  a  shy 
dame ;  she  never  went  to  court  after  the  Duke  one  day 
kissed  her  hand  rather  too  ardently." 

There  was  another  silence,  in  which  the  crunching 
of  the  gravel  beneath  the  tread  of  the  horse  mingled 
with  the  twittering  of  young  birds  in  a  nest  overhead. 

"There  are  little  birds  up  there,  I  know;  Heine- 
mann  lifts  me  up  and  lets  me  look  into  nests  some- 
times," the  child  said,  with  a  longing  look  upward. 

He  laughed.  "  That  is  too  high,  little  one,  for  us  to 
reach.  But,  ah,  how  blue  eyes  can  sparkle !  I  do  not 
believe  that  the  starlight  in  my  beautiful  grandmother's 


68  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

eyes  ever  was  so  brilliant.  None  of  the  Neuhaus 
Gerolds  inherited  that  fair  face,  with  its  blond  curls, 
man}-  as  were  the  daughters  of  the  line.  I  thought 
that  feminine  type  unique.  But  later,  much  later,  I 
discovered  that  that  face  was  an  inheritance  of  the 
Altensteins.  It  was  at  our  court.  I  had  been  hunting 
with  the  Duke,  and  we  returned  late  and  went  to  the 
drawing-room  of  the  Dowager  Duchess  just  as  a  new 
lady-in-waiting  was  going  to  the  piano  to  sing  Mozart's 
'Violet.'"  He  leaned  forward  to  look  into  Claudine's 
face.  "  Of  course  you  do  not  remember  that  evening  ?" 

She  shook  her  head  and  blushed.  "  No,  I  have  had 
to  sing  '  The  Violet'  so  often  that  I  have  no  remem- 
brance of  any  special  occasion  when  I  sang  it." 

He  had  stayed  his  steps  for  a  moment,  but  now  he 
went  on  more  quickly.  For  an  artist  the  group  then 
walking  along  the  forest  road  would  have  made  a  fine 
subject  for  a  picture  of  a  fugitive  family.  The  noble, 
manly  figure,  with  his  horse's  bridle  thrown  around 
one  arm,  while  on  the  other  he  carried  the  weary  child 
with  such  graceful  ease,  and  the  feminine  form  beside 
him,  her  long  skirt  caught  up  through  her  girdle 
that  it  might  not  impede  her  steps,  and  the  luxuriant 
waves  of  her  hair  uncovered,  so  that  the  sunbeams 
flickering  through  the  beechen  boughs  touched  them 
here  and  there  with  gold, — the  pair  looked  as  if  they 
belonged  to  each  other,  sharing  joy  and  sorrow,  like 
'those  whom  God  hath  joined  together.' 

A  few  more  moments,  and  the  gay  colours  of  the 
garden  showed  through  the  trees,  and  the  barking  of 
the  dog  was  heard.  Herr  von  Gerold  had  probably 
gradually  awakened  to  a  sense  of  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  his  sister  in  the  bell-room  and  her  hurried  in- 
quiries after  the  child.  He  had  also  heard  her  calling 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  69 

it,  and  had  finally  bestirred  himself  to  search  for  it. 
He  came  rapidly  towards  the  group,  and  between  the 
ivy-wreathed  posts  at  the  garden  gate  appeared  a 
female  head  carefully  wrapped  up  and  nightcapped. 
Fraulein  Lindenmeyer,  in  her  anxiety,  had  ventured  to 
the  very  bottom  of  the  garden  ;  but  at  sight  of  the  tall, 
manly  figure  she  turned  and  ran  back  to  the  house  like 
one  possessed,  her  skirts  flying  and  her  shawl  hastily 
pulled  over  her  head. 

A  few  days  previously  Herr  von  G-erold  would  have 
passed  by  his  Neuhaus  kinsman  as  a  stranger,  without 
any  sentiment  of  relationship,  as  had  always  been  the 
case  at  the  university ;  but  yesterday  Baron  Lothar 
had  shown  special  courtesy  to  Claudine,  and  to-day 
he  had  brought  back  the  lost  child  to  her  father. 
Therefore  he  hastened  gratefully  towards  him,  and, 
after  a  few  words  of  explanation  from  Claudine,  the 
two  men  shook  hands  cordially.  And  Baron  Lothar 
made  no  move  to  mount  his  horse  and  depart  after 
Herr  von  G-erold  had  taken  the  child  from  him.  He 
walked  on  between  the  brother  and  sister,  talking  with 
them,  as  far  as  the  garden  gate,  and  then,  without  any 
hesitation,  quite  as  though  it  were  a  matter  of  course, 
he  accepted  Herr  von  G-erold's  invitation  to  enter  and 
inspect  the  interesting  discovery  of  wax.  He  had,  he 
declared,  taken  his  ride  this  way  to-day  for  the  sake 
of  seeing  the  Owl's  Nest,  which  had  impressed  him 
yesterday  as  charming. 

Claudine  hurried  on  to  the  house  before  the  others. 
On  the  threshold  of  the  door  she  could  not  help  smiling. 
Was  not  all  this  like  the  transformations  in  some  old 
fairy-tale  ?  There  was  the  man  whose  presence  had  but 
lately  diffused  such  splendour  at  court  carefully  lead- 
ing his  horse  among  Heinemann's  cherished  flowers, 


70  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

taking  pains  that  the  steed's  hoof  should  crush  no  leaf 
that  might  be  a  means  of  profit  to  the  old  man  ;  and 
here  was  she,  only  a  short  while  ago  the  petted  and 
caressed  maid  of  honour,  special  favourite  of  the  Dow- 
ager Duchess,  hurrying  down  the  worn  cellar-stairs  to 
bring  for  his  refreshment  a  bottle  of  wine  from  the 
small  store  left  by  her  grandmother  1 

He  led  his  horse  to  a  shady  corner  among  the  chapel 
ruins  and  tied  it  to  a  stout  juniper-tree  which  had 
found  a  lodgement  there  and  was  spreading  its  dark 
greenery  lovingly  above  the  desecrated  walls,  and  then 
he  came  into  the  house. 

He  bestowed  but  little  attention  upon  the  store  of 
wax  in  the  cellar ;  it  was  easy  to  see  that  it  was  not 
the  prosaic  production  of  the  nuns  that  had  suddenly 
awakened  his  interest  in  the  Owl's  Nest.  Indeed,  he 
frankly  confessed  that  he  greatly  preferred  the  vine- 
wreathed  gallery  and  bell-tower  outside,  to  the  result 
of  the  domestic  industry  and  thrifty  love  of  gain  of 
the  devout  recluses. 

Therefore  Claudine  placed  a  table,  with  the  wine 
and  glasses  and  a  fresh  bunch  of  flowers,  outside  of 
the  glass  door  leading  from  the  sitting-room  into  the 
open  air. 

Close  by  the  wall  of  the  low,  connecting  building 
there  stood  an  ancient  linden,  the  last  remnant  of  u 
former  avenue,  and  already  partly  dead  from  age.  The 
only  boughs  in  which  the  sap  still  flowed  stretched  far 
over  the  balustrade ;  they  were  in  luxuriant  leaf,  and 
with  a  small  awning  extended  there  made  a  shady 
nook,  whence  could  be  seen  two  slender,  isolated 
columns,  the  only  ones  remaining  of  the  magnificent 
row  that  had  once  sustained  the  nave  of  the  church, 
and  behind  them  the  arched  stone  frame  of  a  pointed 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  71 

Gothic  window  in  the  eastern  wall.  Through  the  other 
windows,  in  the  course  of  years,  the  forest-trees  grow- 
ing close  on  the  outside  of  the  walls  had  thrust  their 
boughs,  and  the  vines  wreathing  their  trunks  had 
climbed  across  the  sills,  to  cling  to  the  inner  walls  of 
the  ruined  temple.  But  the  two  columns  and  the  arch 
of  the  eastern  window  enclosed  a  small  shady  bit  of 
woodland,  a  peaceful  island  of  green,  over  which  the 
deer  wandered  fearlessly. 

Baron  Lothar  stepped  up  to  the  balustrade  and  gazed 
with  folded  arms  down  the  charming  vista. 

"  Our  German  forests  are  also  fine,"  said  Herr  von 
Gerold,  the  traveller,  in  his  gentle  voice,  as  he  stood 
beside  him. 

"What?"  Baron  Lothar  turned  upon  him  hastily. 
"  Also  ?  I  say  our  German  forests  alone  are  fine.  What 
do  I  care  for  palms  and  mangoes,  or  for  the  soft  south- ( 
ern  breeze  that  breathes  upon  my  face  like  a  caress 
from  an  unloved  hand  !  I  have  been  fairly  ill  with 
longing  for  the  Thuringian  forest  and  its  bracing  air, 
its  deep  shades,  and  its  dank  undergrowth  that  opposes 
so  firm  a  barrier  to  the  huntsman ;  ill  with  longing  for 
its  winter  blasts  that  rage  among  its  boughs  and  chal- 
lenge all  my  strength  to  battle  against  them.  No ; 
and  I  confess,  even  at  the  risk  of  being  set  down  as  a 
barbarian,  a  German  bear,  that  all  the  treasures  of  art 
did  not  help  me  to  overcome  my  homesickness  ;  for  I 
do  not  understand  them.  I  understand  them  no  better 
than  do  most  of  my  countrymen  who  undertake  yearly 
pilgrimages  in  crowds  to  the  South,  however  they  may 
pretend  and  fall  into  ecstasies." 

Herr  von  Gerold  laughed ;  he  was  well  acquainted 
with  the  affectation  of  which  Lothar  spoke ;  but  Clau- 
dine,  who  was  just  then  filling  the  glasses  with  wine, 


72  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

said,  with  a  glance  towards  the  speaker  by  the  balus- 
trade, "  You  understand  music  all  the  better." 

"  Who  told  you  so  ?"  he  asked,  frowning.  "  To  my 
knowledge  I  never  allowed  my  light  to  shine  at  court. 
Did  you  ever  see  me  touch  a  piano  there  ? — But,  you 
see," — he  turned  to  Herr  von  Gerold, — "  because  there 
has  been  some  vague  rumour  of  my  sacrificing,  in  the 
privacy  of  my  own  study,  to  my  gods,  Beethoven  and 
Bach,  they  are  trying  to  keep  me  by  appealing  to  this 
weakness  of  mine.  Not  on  my  account.  Heaven  for- 
bid !  If  it  were  not  for  my  little  daughter  I  might  go 
live  among  the  Hottentots,  and  no  one  would  care ;  but 
they  want  the  child  in  the  capital,  and  therefore  his 
Highness  graciously  offers  me  the  post  of  impresario." 
He  laughed  in  a  forced  way.  "  A  charming  idea  !  I 
am  to  manage  the  springs  of  the  wooden  and  paste- 
board world,  consort  with  odious  prime-donne  and  bal- 
let-dancers, and  in  the  end  learn  intrigue,  that  I  may 
not  be  ruined  by  it.  God  forbid !  I  would  rather  re- 
tire absolutely  to  Neuhaus  or  to  my  estate  in  Saxony, 
and  hunt  and  sow  and  reap  and  follow  the  plough,  if 
need  be,  for  I  could  in  that  case  at  least  preserve  my 
soul  and  body  in  health." 

He  took  one  of  the  filled  wineglasses  from  the  salver 
which  Claudine  offered  him.  "  But  you  ?  I  see  only 
two  glasses,"  he  said  to  her.  "At  court  I  remember 
you  always  contrived  with  admirable  dexterity  to  avoid 
clinking  your  glass  with  mine.  I  understood  it :  Mon- 
tague and  Capulet  confronted  each  other ;  but  to-day 
it  is  different.  I  am  here  as  your  guest,  and  if  you 
will  not  allow  me  to  drink  specially  to  your  health, 
I  can  certainly  pray  you  to  join  me  in  remembrance 
of  one  whom  we  both  love, — in  wishing  health  to  the 
venerable  Dowager  Duchess." 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  73 

Claudine  made  haste  to  bring  another  glass,  and 
shortly  afterwards  the  three  clinked  musically  in  the 
quiet  air. 

"  These  ancient  trees  will  wonder,"  said  Herr  von 
Gerold,  gayly,  looking  up  at  the  lofty  oaks  which  had 
beheld  the  grand  convent  of  St.  Walpurga  wrapped  in 
a  royal  robo  of  crimson  flame,  and  the  stately  wooden 
figure  of  the  saint  in  its  costly  silken  vestments  reduced 
to  a  heap  of  ashes.  "  Since  the  orgy  held  by  the  icono- 
clasts among  the  wine-casks  of  the  burning  convent  no 
glass  has  been  heard  to  clink  here  until  now  ;  and  it 
sounded  so  clear  and  loud,  so  full  of  the  promise  of 
future  joy,  that  I  should  like  to  propose  another  health, 
— that  of  one  whom  I  honour,  although  I  do  not  know 
him  personally ;  a  noble  man,  a  zealous  patron  of  the 
arts  and  sciences ;  he  loves  poesy.  Long  live  our  Duke !" 
At  that  moment  the  golden  Ehine  wine  was  scattered 
on  the  air  from  Baron  Lothar's  glass,  which  fell  from 
his  hand  and  was  shattered  on  the  ground. 

"Ah,  forgive  me  for  my  clumsiness!  I  am  very 
awkward,"  he  said,  with  an  odd  smile.  "  But  this  old 
fellow" — he  pointed  to  the  linden  bough  against  which 
he  had  struck  his  arm — "is  still  too  sturdy  to  yield 
an  inch.  Well,  his  Highness's  health  does  not  depend 
upon  my  wishes."  He  drew  on  his  gloves  and  took  up 
his  riding- whip.  "  I  have  abused  your  hospitality,  and 
my  immediate  self-banishment  shall  be  my  punishment. 
I  should  have  liked  to  stay  longer  in  this  peaceful  re- 
treat, and  to  have  a  look  into  the  bell-tower,  but  that 
must  be  for  another  time.  And  now  come  here,  little 
truant."  Elizabeth  had  been  sitting  quietly  in  her 
small  arm-chair  by  the  balustrade,  and  as  he  spoke  he 
lifted  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her.  "  No  more  walks 
outside  the  gate,  do  you  hear?  If  you  want  to  visit 
D  7 


74  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

the  straw  berry- lad}-,  tell  me,  and  I  will  come  in  the 
carnage  and  take  you  to  her  as  often  as  you  choose." 

The  child  nodded  shyly,  and  tried  to  get  down  from 
his  arms. 

"  Was  Cousin  Lothar  angry  ?"  she  asked  her  father, 
when  he  returned  from  escorting  the  visitor  to  the  gate. 

"No,  my  child,  not  angry  ;  only  a  little  odd,"  he  re- 
plied. "  Our  poor  glass,  and  that  capital  wine — the 
linden-bough  was  not  to  blame!  Tell  me,  Claudine," 
and  he  turned  to  his  sister,  who  was  standing  by  the 
balustrade,  leaning  forward  slightly,  as  if  listening  to 
the  sound  of  the  horse's  hoofs  in  the  distance,  "  was 
not  Lothar  a  special  favourite  of  the  Duke's  ?" 

"He  still  is  so,"  she  said,  her  face  turned  from  him. 
"  You  heard  how  they  are  trying  to  keep  him  in  the 
capital."  Her  voice  was  not  quite  steady,  and  the 
smile  with  which  she  passed  her  brother  on  her  way 
to  the  kitchen  to  prepare  the  mid-day  meal  was  forced. 
There,  in  the  centre  of  the  sitting-room,  stood  the  table 
already  set  with  its  three  places.  Yes,  the  dinted 
pewter  plates  from  which  they  ate  were  old-fashioned 
enough.  Her  grandmother,  when  she  retired  to  her 
dower-house,  had  left  behind  her  all  her  silver, — the 
store  of  magnificent  silver-plate  was  not  to  be  broken 
up, — and  had  taken  with  her  only  her  inherited  pewter 
dishes  and  plates,  "  quite  suitable  for  a  widowed  recluse 
who  had  but  a  few  days  to  live,"  she  declared.  With 
her  limited  income,  which  her  grandson's  pecuniary 
embarrassments  curtailed  still  further,  it  was  sensible 
to  use  ware  that  would  not  break.  The  knives  and 
forks  had  black,  defaced  wooden  handles,  and  a  piece 
of  thin  oil-cloth  was  spread  in  the  centre  of  the  table 
to  save  the  table-cloth, — all  very  plebeian  and  econom- 
ical, although  scrupulously  neat  and  clean. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  75 

He  had  seen  it  all  as  he  passed  through  the  room, 
and  it  was  well  that  he  had  done  so.  There  could  be 
no  talk  of  playing  a  part;  the  whole  footing  of  the 
establishment  showed  the  determination  of  its  owners 
to  accommodate  themselves  to  their  changed  circum- 
stances. He  must  now  be  aware  that  she  had  been  in 
earnest  in  her  flight. 


The  ducal  family  owned  various  castles  in  the  coun- 
try, fine,  ancient  piles,  with  magnificent  gardens  and  ex- 
tensive parks,  but  they  were  situated  for  the  most  part 
in  the  vicinity  of  towns,  or  on  level  plains  where  the 
parks  were  bordered  by  vast  meadows,  and  where  the 
forests  were  so  distant  that  they  showed  only  as  a  dark 
line  on  the  horizon.  The  ancestors  of  the  present  Duke 
had  been  fond  of  the  sunny  plains,  and  had  shunned  the 
wooded  portions  of  their  domains  when  they  indulged 
their  taste  for  building,  and  although  they  had  been 
passionate  lovers  of  the  chase,  and  had  often  spent 
weeks  in  the  forests  hunting,  certain  very  primitive 
hunting-lodges,  scattered  here  and  there,  had  sufficed 
for  their  shelter  at  night  and  for  the  preparation  of 
their  simple  meals. 

Every  one  admitted,  therefore,  that  Altenstein  Ge- 
roldscourt,  with  its  adjacent  forests  and  its  bracing 
mountain-air,  was  a  most  valuable  acquisition  for  the 
Duke.  His  three  delicate  young  sons,  with  their  frail, 
invalid  mother,  could  have  no  healthier  place  of  resi- 
dence in  the  hot  summer,  and  the  zeal  and  haste  with 
which  Geroldscourt  was  made  ready  for  its  princely 
possessors  were  but  natural.  The  youthful  Duchess 
herself  pushed  forward  these  preparations  with  fever- 


76  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

ish  eagerness;  no  baths,  no  change  of  climate,  had 
hitherto  availed  to  restore  her  failing  health ;  she 
hoped  everything  from  the  air  of  the  forest  here. 
Therefore,  by  the  Duke's  orders,  the  various  build- 
ings had  been  left  pretty  much  as  they  wei'e  ;  not  a  wall 
had  been  changed,  not  a  garden-plot  rearranged ;  and 
when  they  brought  to  his  Highness  for  his  approval  a 
sketch  of  a  fine  modern  fountain  to  replace  the  one  in 
the  court-yard,  which,  although  finely  carved  and  dec- 
orated, was  rustic  in  design,  he  frowned,  and  ordered 
that  the  fountain  should  be  left  just  as  it  was.  He  was 
seriously  angry  when  he  discovered  that  the  haw- 
thorns and  syringas  in  the  corner  of  the  court-yard 
had  been  torn  away  root  and  branch  to  let  more  light 
into  the  apartments  of  the  ladies-in-waiting,  and  there 
were  wry  faces  among  the  royal  servants  when  the 
Duke  appointed  as  castellan  of  Geroldscourt  old  Fried- 
rich  Kern,  late  coachman,  gardener,  and  footman  all  in 
one  to  the  last  Altenstein  lord.  His  Highness  thought 
with  justice  that  so  faithful  a  servant  would  be  the  best 
man  to  take  charge  of  his  new  estate. 

Thus  the  exterior  physiognomy  of  Geroldscourt  was 
but  little  altered;  and  in  the  interior  there  was  still 
many  an  heirloom  which  the  Duke  had  ordered  to  be 
purchased,  and  which  occupied  its  old  place.  The  rare 
Meissen  candelabra  with  the  antique  girandoles  were 
still  in  one  of  the  drawing-rooms,  with  much  of  the 
rococo  furniture  inlaid  with  the  Altenstein  arms  and 
initials  in  mother-of-pearl  and  silver.  Everything  else, 
to  be  sure,  was  new,  and  the  peaceful  sleepers  beneath 
the  chapel  pavement,  if  the  fancy  had  taken  them  for 
a  ghostly  tour  of  inspection,  would  hardly  have  recog- 
nized their  old  haunts,  so  great  was  the  display  every- 
where of  princely  luxury  and  rich  artistic  decoration. 


THE   OWL'S  XEST.  77 

Day  and  night  workmen  had  been  busy  at  Gerolds- 
court,  and  the  railway  had  transported  hither  the 
finest  that  Paris  and  Vienna  could  afford  of  furniture 
and  hangings.  By  the  end  of  July  all  was  ready  for 
the  court  to  migrate  to  the  Paulinenthal. 

There  were  changes  too  at  the  Owl's  Nest.  Heine- 
mann  had  made  a  '  splendid  trade,'  as  he  expressed  it, 
rubbing  his  hands  the  while  in  high  glee.  One  day 
a  wagon  drew  up  at  the  garden  gate,  and  all  the 
product  of  the  industry  of  bees  and  nuns,  which  had 
been  garnered  up  underground  for  centuries,  was 
brought  out  into  the  light  of  day  and  sent  abroad 
into  the  world  to  serve  the  uses  of  mankind.  When 
Heinemann,  as  the  result  of  his  sale,  laid  before  his 
young  mistress  at  her  writing-table  a  goodly  pile  of 
bank-notes,  he  remarked,  with  the  twinkle  of  the  eye 
that  so  well  became  his  honest  face,  that  he  thought 
there  might  now  be  a  little  more  butter  allowed 
with  the  tea-cakes  and  a  larger  piece  of  meat  in  the 
soup-pot,  not  to  speak  of  the  new  curtains,  which  must 
surely  be  bought  now,  as  there  were  so  many  eyes  to 
glance  from  the  road  towards  the  windows  of  the 
corner-room. 

Yes,  the  road  certainly  had  become  more  frequented, 
and  Fraulein  Linden meyer  wore  her  spectacles  pushed 
up  upon  her  forehead  oftener  than  before  her  eyes. 
She  continually  dropped  her  stitches,  and  complained 
that  she  could  scarcely  finish  her  sentences  when 
reading,  there  was  so  much  going  on  in  the  road. 
But  as  she  spoke  she  smiled  with  delight,  for  "  although 
the  forest  solitude  was  lovely, — else  surely  the  poets 
would  not  praise  it  so  constantly  as  they  did, — yes, 
really  heavenly,  still  sometimes,  when  the  entire  day 
was  spent  without  the  passing  of  even  a  wood-cart 

7* 


78  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

or  a  labourer,  or  even  a  huckster-woman  from  the 
village,  it  was  just  the  least  bit  lonesome." 

The  three  little  princes,  with  their  servants  and  train, 
were  the  first  to  arrive  at  Geroldscourt,  and  the  path 
to  the  Owl's  Nest  must  have  pleased  them  greatly,  for 
they  made  their  appearance  there  daily.  The  sight 
of  them  trotting  up  on  their  ponies  rejoiced  the  eyes 
of  Ma'amselle,  sitting  knitting  at  her  window ;  and 
no  less  did  she  enjoy  seeing  the  well-appointed  equi- 
page from  Neuhaus  drive  past:  it  always  went  very 
slowly ;  and  Frau  von  Berg,  handsome  and  portly,  sat 
inside  with  the  Princess  Katharina's  pale  little  child  on 
her  lap,  while  Baron  Lothar  drove  his  little  daughter 
himself. 

Heinemann  contrived  to  be  always  busy  with  his 
rose-bushes  when  the  carriage  went  by,  and  he  per- 
sistently turned  his  back  to  it,  for  he  detested  the 
sight  of  the  stout  Frau, '  wedged  in  among  the  cushions' 
as  if  she  were  the  Princess  herself.  Had  he  not 
•with  his  own  eyes  seen  how  she  turned  away  her 
head,  as  if  some  poisonous  beetle  had  flown  in  her 
face,  when  his  young  mistress  had  been  standing  on 
the  gallery,  in  her  pretty  white  muslin  gown,  looking 
as  beautiful  as  an  angel  ?  And  had  she  not,  the  first 
time  she  drove  past  the  Owl's  Nest,  examined  it  scorn- 
fully through  her  eye-glass,  and  then  scanned  him, 
Heinemann,  in  the  most  arrogant  manner,  as  if  ex- 
pecting him  to  bow  his  very  lowest  on  the  instant? 
She  would  wait  a  long  time  before  he  bent  his  head 
before  her! 

It  was  very  different  when  Baron  Lothar  came 
riding  past  on  his  spirited  chestnut.  Then  the  finest 
rose  in  the  gai'den  was  plucked  and  handed  across  the 
hedge  to  the  rider,  who  always  stuck  it  in  his  button- 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  79 

hole.  And  Heinemann  frankly  confessed  that  he  did 
not  understand  how  it  was,  but  he  could  not  cherish 
any  more  dislike  for  the  Neuhauser ;  he  liked  to  look 
up  into  his  fine,  fiery  soldier-eyes  as  he  talked  with 
him  across  the  picket-fence. 

Beata,  too,  had  paid  several  visits  to  the  Owl's  Nest. 
She  always  came  afoot,  and  stayed  to  take  a  cup  of 
coffee,  and,  little  as  she  was  wont  to  speak  of  her  own 
likings,  she  declared  to  Claudine  that  she  looked  for- 
ward to  these  visits  all  through  the  week.  The  two 
school-mates  would  sit  at  their  coffee  on  the  gallery, 
and  little  Elizabeth  would  gambol  and  play  about  them. 
And  although  Herr  von  Gerold  could  never  quite  make 
up  his  mind  to  go  down  and  welcome  the  visitor, — he 
shuddered  at  the  remembrance  of  the  encounter  on 
the  staircase  at  Geroldscourt, — he  often  looked  from 
his  window  in  the  bell-room  and  saw  how  confidingly 
his  little  girl  nestled  in  '  Cousin  BeataV  lap,  and  how 
tenderly  the  large  brown  hands  stroked  the  child's 
fair  curls.  Baron  Lothar  always  drove  over  for  his 
sister  towards  evening,  and  then  Heinemann  held  the 
horses  while  the  Neuhauser  paid  his  respects  to  the 
ladies  on  the  gallery  and  sometimes  went  up  to  the 
bell-room  to  bid  the  recluse  there  good-evening. 

And  now  the  ducal  family  had  all  moved  out  to 
Geroldscourt,  and  the  flag  was  flying  from  its  roof- 
tree.  The  villagers  had  gathered  by  the  roadside,  and 
had  been  fairly  stunned  by  the  splendour  and  magnifi- 
cence of  the  ducal  equipages  and  by  the  multitude  of 
attendants  and  servants  that  arrived  in  humbler  vehi- 
cles. Why,  there  would  not  be  one  empty  room  at 
Geroldscourt !  The  Altenstein  mansion  was  an  exten- 
sive structure ;  generation  after  generation  had  en- 
larged and  improved  it ;  its  architectural  pretensions 


80  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

and  its  size  were  imposing  enough  to  allow  of  its  being 
called  a  castle. 

The  afternoon  sun  shone  broadly  upon  its  front, 
flanked  by  two  octagonal  towers,  and  brought  into 
relief  the  delicate  yet  forcible  fret- work  of  its  roofs 
and  window-frames,  while  through  the  open  sashes 
the  air,  laden  with  the  odour  of  the  pines  and  the  in- 
vigorating aroma  of  the  forest,  streamed  into  the  house, 
— a  delicious  air.  "My  fountain  of  health!"  said  the 
young  Duchess  Elise,  in  her  low,  husky  voice. 

It  was  the  second  day  after  her  arrival.  The  day 
before,  after  her  fatiguing  drive  hither,  she  had,  by  her 
physician's  advice,  kept  her  bed ;  but  to-day,  '  already 
feeling  wonderfully  better,'  she  had,  upon  her  husband's 
arm,  walked  through  the  suite  of  rooms  in  the  upper 
story.  And  she  recalled  with  a  shudder  the  hot  glare 
of  the  sun,  here  where  the  sun  did  not  scorch,  but 
where  its  light  came  delicately  emerald  in  color  through 
the  luxuriant  green. 

"  Here  I  shall  once  more  be  your  fleet-footed  fawn, 
your  merry  Liesel,  shall  I  not,  Adalbert  ?"  the  young 
Duchess  said,  as  her  eyes  sought  tenderly  those  of  the 
tall,  handsome  man  with  whose  step  she  made  a  great 
effort  to  keep  pace.  Yes,  ethereally  pale  and  shadowy 
as  was  the  little  figure  in  the  simple  white  dress  re- 
flected in  the  tall  mirrors  as  she  passed  them,  she 
should  soon  be  well  here, — the  thin  cheeks  would  re- 
gain their  rounded  outline,  the  form  recover  the  elastic 
grace  which  had  formerly  caused  it  to  be  admired  as 
sylph-like.  Two  months  of  this  delicious  forest  air 
and  all  would  surely  be  well  again. 

She  occupied  the  rooms  in  the  eastern  wing  adjoin- 
ing the  dining-hall  and  looking  out  into  the  court- 
yard, separated  from  those  of  her  husband  in  the 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  81 

western  wing  only  by  a  reception-room  common  to 
both.  The  last  room  in  the  long  suite  was  his  study, 
from  which  a  door  in  one  corner  led  out  upon  the  bal- 
cony of  the  tower.  The  walls  were  covered  with  ex- 
quisite paintings, — Spanish  landscapes  from  which  a 
southern  sun  rayed  forth  a  golden  glow.  A  heavy 
purple  plush  curtain  looped  on  either  side  hung  across 
the  door  opening  on  the  balcony. 

In  the  centre  of  the  room  stood  a  step-ladder.  Old 
Friedrich — or  rather  the  Castellan  Kern,  as  he  was 
now  called — had  been  hanging  up  a  chandelier  that 
had  just  arrived,  and  at  sight  of  the  ducal  pair  he 
scrambled  hui-riedly  down  the  steps. 

Involuntarily  the  Duchess  paused  on  the  threshold. 
"Ah,  this  was  the  poor  Spaniard's  room!"  she  ex- 
claimed, with  a  slight  tremor  in  her  voice.  "Did  she 
die  here?"  she  asked,  fixing  her  feverishly-bright  eyes 
with  a  look  of  inquiry  in  them  upon  the  old  man,  who 
bowed  low. 

"  No,  your  Highness,  not  here.  Herr  von  Grerold 
had  this  room  painted  for  her  at  great  expense,  but  she 
could  not  stay  here  an  hour.  The  farm  is  too  near. 
She  could  not  bear  to  hear  a  cow  low,  and  if  a  hay- 
wagon  rattled  over  the  ground,  or  the  threshers  were 
at  work  in  the  barns,  she  would  put  her  fingers  in  her 
ears  and  run  through  the  rooms  and  passages  until  she 
found  a  quiet  corner,  where  she  could  crouch  like  a 
timid  little  kitten.  Ah,  she  was  not  fitted  to  be  mis- 
tress here !  She  was  always  quiet  and  sad,  and  she 
would  not  eat ;  now  and  then  she  would  break  off  a 
corner  of  a  cake  of  chocolate ;  that  was  what  kept  her 
alive.  At  last  she  lived  in  the  summer-house,  and 
when  the  weather  was  fine  she  was  wrapped  up  in 
silken,  downy  coverlets  and  carried  out  and  laid  upon 


82  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

the  mossy  ground  just  on  the  borders  of  the  rbrest  at 
the  foot  of  the  garden.  That  was  the  place  she  liked 
best  in  our  pale  country,  as  she  called  our  dear  Thu- 
ringia,  and  there  she  dropped  asleep  for  the  last  time 
on  an  autumn  day ;  all  was  over.  She  died  of  home- 
sickness, they  said." 

The  Duchess  advanced  into  the  room  and  gazed 
round  her  at  the  paintings  on  the  walls. 

"  Homesickness !"  she  repeated,  shaking  her  head 
gently.  "  She  ought  not  to  have  married  her  German 
husband,  for  she  did  not  love  him.  I  should  not  be 
homesick  if  I  were  to  go  with  you  to  wastes  of  ice 
and  snow,"  she  whispered,  tenderly,  looking  up  into 
the  face  of  her  companion,  as  together  they  went  to 
the  open  door  of  the  balcony. 

He  smiled  down  upon  her  kindly.  She  sank  into 
a  low  cushioned  seat  and  looked  abroad  over  the  land- 
scape in  a  rapture  of  delight. 

"  What  a  delicious  view !"  she  said,  clasping  her  small 
•waxen  hands  in  her  lap.  "The  Gerolds  understood 
better  than  we,  Adalbert,  how  to  choose  the  site  for 
the  home  of  their  race,"  she  went  on,  after  a  moment's 
pause.  "  In  all  our  castles  and  country-seats  we  have 
not  a  single  view  equal  to  this. — Who  occupied  this 
wing  ?"  she  asked  the  castellan,  who  was  noiselessly 
preparing  to  depart  with  the  step-ladder. 

"  Only  the  ladies,  your  Highness,  for  as  long  as  1 
have  been  at  Geroldscourt,"  the  old  man  made  reply, 
carefully  setting  down  the  ladder.  "First  the  late 
councellor's  wife,  until  she  retired  to  the  Owl's  Nest, 
and  then  the  colonel's  wife.  And  two  rooms  farther 
on  belonged  to  our  Fraulein." 

"Ah,  the  beautiful  Claudinel"  the  Duchess  ex- 
claimed, in  a  tone  of  inquiry. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  83 

"The  same,  your  Highness ;  Fraulein  Claudine  von 
Gerold.  She  was  born  in  one  of  those  rooms.  I  re- 
member when  the  little  angel  was  first  shown  to  us  on 
a  white  cushion." 

"Mamma's  favourite;  do  you  hear,  Adalbert ?"  the 
Duchess  said  with  a  smile  to  her  husband,  who  was 
standing  at  one  of  the  windows  gazing  into  the  dis- 
tance, apparently  lost  in  thought.  "  The  swan,  as 
her  poetical  brother  calls  her  in  his  poems, — the  re- 
markable girl  who  left  the  court  to  embrace  a  life 
of  poverty  that  she  might  be  a  help  to  her  brother. 
— Owl's  Nest  is  the  name  of  the  forest  retreat  where 
Fraulein  von  Gerold  now  lives,  is  it  not  ?"  she  asked 
the  castellan. 

He  bowed.  "  Walpurgiszella  is  its  real  name,  your 
Highness.  But  the  old  Frau  von  Gerold  called  it  '  my 
Owl's  Nest'  when  she  first  saw  the  ruins  by  moon- 
light, and  there  was  a  whirring  of  wings  and  a  scream- 
ing all  about  her,  as  if  every  corner  were  filled  with 
little  children.  And  it  has  been  called  the  Owl's  Nest 
ever  since,  although  the  feathered  rogues  no  longer 
have  it  their  own  way  there.  It  is  very  comfortable 
now  in  the  tower,  where  they  were  the  thickest.  Oh, 
yes,  the  tower," — he  stroked  his  faultlessly  shaven 
chin  as  he  spoke, — "  all  the  country  round  has  been 
talking  of  the  old  tower  for  the  last  few  days.  They 
say  there  has  been  a  treasure  discovered  in  the  cellar 
there." 

"  A  treasure  in  money  ?"  the  Duke  asked,  eagerly, 
turning  from  the  window  and  holding  back  the  violet 
plush  curtain,  that  he  might  look  the  castellan  in  the 
face. 

The  old  man  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  In  coin,  your 
Highness?  I  hardly  think  so.  They  tell  of  an  im- 


84  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

monse  treasure  of  gold  and  silver  and  jewels ;  but" — 
a  dry  smile  flitted  across  his  face — "I  know  my  good 
friend  Heinemann,  the  old  rogue ;  he  would  be  certain 
to  tell  wonderful  tales  to  any  one  who  should  ask  him, 
and  most  likely  the  wonderful  treasure  will  dwindle  to 
a  single  sacramental  cup." 

The  large,  brilliant  eyes  of  the  Duchess  were  riveted 
upon  the  old  man,  like  those  of  a  child  listening  to  a 
fairy-tale. 

"  A  treasure  ?"  she  asked.  Then  she  paused,  and 
her  smile  was  replaced  by  a  haughty,  cool  expression. 
Between  the  curtains  of  the  opposite  portiere  appeared 
a  gentleman,  who  advanced  with  a  respectful  inclina- 
tion. She  bent  her  head  in  a  scarcely  perceptible  ac- 
knowledgment of  his  salute,  and  turned  away  to  the 
window  with  a  nervous  quiver  of  her  delicate  lips, 
while  the  Duke  said,  graciously, — 

"  "Well,  Palmer,  what  have  you  to  tell  us  now  that  is 
disagreeable  ?  Are  the  rafters  worm-eaten,  or  are  your 
rooms  haunted?" 

"  Your  Highness  is  pleased  to  jest,"  was  the  reply. 
"My  warnings  with  regard  to  the  purchase  of  Altenstein 
»vere  the  result  of  my  sense  of  duty  as  a  faithful  ser- 
vant, and  I  am  sure  your  Highness  did  not  misunder- 
stand me.  At  present  I  have  only  what  is  agreeable 
to  announce.  Baron  Lothar  Gerold  begs  to  be  per- 
mitted to  pay  his  respects  to  his  noble  neighbour." 

The  Duchess  turned  eagerly.  "  Oh,  he  is  cordially 
welcome  I"  she  exclaimed;  and  when,  after  a  few  mo- 
ments, Lothar  entered  the  room,  she  held  out  her  trans- 
parent hand  to  him  with,  "  My  dear  Baron,  what  a 
pleasure !" 

The  Baron  took  her  hand  and  carried  it  reverently 
to  his  lips.  Then,  bowing  to  the  Duke,  he  said,  in  his 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  85 

deep,  musical  voice,  "  Your  Highness  will  allow  me  to 
announce  my  return  home;  I  propose  now  to  remain 
here." 

"  It  is  high  time,  cousin ;  you  have  made  us  wait 
long  enough  for  you,"  replied  the  Duke,  offering  him 
his  hand. 

"  Alas  that  you  come  alone,  my  dear  Gerold !"  said 
I  the  Duchess,  again  extending  her  hand  to  him,  her  fine 
eyes  suddenly  filled  with  tears.  "  Poor  Katharina  !" 

"  I  have  brought  my  child  home  with  me,  your  High- 
ness," he  replied,  gravely. 

"I.  know,  Gerold,  I  know!  But  a  child  is  merely 
a  child,  and  can  only  partially  replace  our  life's  com- 
panion." 

She  spoke  almost  passionately,  and  her  eyes  sought 
the  Duke,  who  stood  leaning  against  a  costly  inlaid 
cabinet,  and,  as  if  he  were  not  listening,  gazing  out 
among  the  linden  boughs  waving  in  the  broad  after- 
noon sunshine. 

There  was  a  pause ;  the  Duchess  looked  down,  and 
from  beneath  her  eyelashes  a  couple  of  tears  rolled 
over  her  cheeks;  she  brushed  them  away  as  she  said, 
"  It  must  be  so  hard  to  die  in  the  midst  of  perfect 
happiness!" 

Another  pause  ensued.  The  three  were  alone  in  the 
apartment ;  the  old  castellan  had  slipped  out  with  his 
ladder,  and  Palmer,  the  Duke's  private  secretary  and  a 
much-envied  favourite  with  his  master,  was  standing  in 
the  next  room,  behind  a  window-curtain,  immovable  as 
a  statue. 

"Apropos,  Baron  Gerold,"  the  Duchess  began  again 
quite  eagerly,  "  have  you  heard  the  wondrous  tale  of 
the  discovery  that  has  been  made  at  the  Owl's  Nest?" 

"  Of  a  truth,  your  Highness,  the  old  ruins  have 
8 


86  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

yielded  up  their  treasure,"  Baron  Lothar  replied,  evi- 
dently relieved. 

"  Indeed  ?"  said  the  Duke,  smiling  incredulously. 
"  What  is  it  ? — sacramental  vessels  ?  coined  gold  ?" 

"  Nothing  of  silver  or  gold,  your  Highness.  It  is 
wax,  simple,  yellow  wax,  walled  up  there  by  the  nuns 
at  the  approach  of  the  enemy." 

"  Wax  ?"  the  Duchess  repeated,  in  a  tone  of  disap- 
pointment. 

"Wax,  your  Highness,  is  as  good  as  coined  money 
when  it  is  genuine  and  unadulterated.  Nowadays " 

"Have  you  seen  it?"  the  Duke  interrupted  him. 

"  Certainly,  your  Highness.  I  inspected  the  treasure 
where  it  was  found." 

"  Then  the  axe  has  been  buried  that  was  for  so  long 
above-ground  between  the  Altensteiners  and  the  Neu- 
hausers,"  his  Highness  said,  composedly. 

"  My  sister  Beata,  your  Highness,  and  Claudine  von 
Gerold  have  been  friends  from  childhood,"  was  the  reply, 
as  quietly  uttered. 

"Ah,  indeed!"  said  the  Duke,  a  shade  more  indif- 
ferently than  before,  turning  to  the  window  again. 

"  But,  my  dear  Gerold,  I  should  like  to  see  this  waxen 
treasure!"  exclaimed  the  Duchess. 

"  Then  your  Highness  must  make  haste,  for  the 
traders  are  after  it  like  wasps  about  a  ripe  pear." 

"  Do  you  hear,  Adalbert  ?     Shall  we  not  drive  over  ?" 

"  To-morrow,  or  the  day  after,  Liesel ;  whenever  you 
like ;  only  let  us  make  sure  that  we  shall  not  intrude." 

"  Intrude  ?  Intrude  upon  Claudine  ?  I  am  sure  she 
will  be  glad  to  see  some  one  in  her  solitude.  Pray, 
Adalbert,  give  orders  to  have  us  go  now." 

The  Duke  turned  to  her.  "Now?"  he  asked ;  and 
his  handsome  face  changed  colour  slightly. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  87 

"Now,  Adalbert,  please!" 

She  had  risen  and  approached  her  husband,  laying 
her  hand  entreatingly  upon  his ;  her  eyes,  her  un- 
naturally brilliant  eyes,  looked  up  at  him  imploring  as 
those  of  a  child. 

He  looked  out,  as  if  to  make  sure  of  the  weather. 
"But  the  drive  in  the  cool  of  the  evening?"  he  mur- 
mured. 

"Oh,  in  the  delicious  forest  air!"  she  begged.  "I 
am  quite  well,  Adalbert,  really  quite  well." 

He  nodded  assent,  and  gave  orders  to  Palmer,  who 
just  then  entered,  to  have  the  carriages  brought 
round.  Then,  after  inviting  Lothar  to  accompany 
them,  he  gave  his  arm  to  the  Duchess,  and  conducted 
her  to  her  rooms  to  make  ready  for  the  drive. 

The  Neuhauser  gazed  gloomily  after  the  pair; 
what  had  become  of  the  Duchess  during  his  absence, 
of  the  elegant  although  delicate  woman  so  ardently 
enthusiastic,  so  eager  for  all  that  was  beautiful  and 
true? — the  woman  who  had  undertaken  the  duties  of 
her  position  as  parent  of  her  people  with  a  zeal  that 
was  wellnigh  fanatical  ?  Here  was  but  a  pale  shadow 
of  herself;  the  fire  that  gleamed  in  her  eyes  was  the 
glow  of  fever;  the  gayety  which  had  formerly  so 
charmed  every  one  was  now  a  nervous  restlessness, 
that  constantly  revealed  the  invalid.  And  he?  The 
curtain  had  just  closed  behind  his  tall  and  strikingly 
fine  figure,  the  very  personification  of  strength,  a 
genuine  ancient  German,  with  his  fair,  waving  hair, 
blue  eyes,  characteristic  repose  of  manner,  and  obsti- 
nacy in  carrying  out  his  will.  Baron  Lothar  could 
not  have  told  why,  but  the  memory  of  a  hunt  in  which 
they  had  both  shared  occurred  to  him.  The  Duke 
had  started  a  magnificent  'stag  of  ten,'  which  had 


88  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

| 

escaped  him  ;  he  followed  it  for  days  and  nights  with 
a  single  huntsman  as  his  companion,  and  with  un- 
equalled endurance  he  underwent  all  the  hardships 
of  the  chase.  At  last  on  the  fourth  morning  he  re- 
joined his  party,  in  soiled  attire,  drenched  by  the  rain 
which  had  fallen  on  the  previous  night,  and  with  boots 
heavy  with  clay, — but  he  had  shot  the  stag  at  dawn. 
Yes,  obstinate  in  the  extreme,  and  therefore 

Lothar's  gaze  was  still  riveted  on  the  violet  portiere, 
when  Herr  von  Palmer  appeared,  and  approached  with 
elegant  ease  of  manner. 

"  Allow  me  also,  Herr  Baron,"  began  the  little  man, 
whose  hair,  already  grizzled,  curled  close  about  his 
temples,  "  to  welcome  you  back  to  your  native  soil, 
You  have  been  too  much  missed  at  court  not  to  be 
greeted  with  enthusiasm  upon  your  return." 

Baron  Lothar  looked  down  from  his  superior  height 
into  the  sallow  face  of  the  speaker  without  moving 
a  muscle  of  his  own.  "  A  peculiar  face, — a  genuine 
sharper's  physiognomy,"  he  said  to  himself,  observing 
the  southern  olive  complexion,  the  bold  dark  eyes 
overshadowed  by  heavy  eyebrows,  and  the  forehead 
from  which  the  hair  had  largely  retreated.  "  Thank 
you,"  he  replied  coldly,  and  his  eyes  wandered  from 
the  little  man's  face  to  the  glowing  colours  of  the 
paintings  on  the  walls. 

"How  do  her  Highness's  looks  strike  you,  Herr 
Baron?"  asked  Palmer,  his  features  assuming  a  mel- 
ancholy expression.  And  when  he  whom  he  addressed 
seemed,  lost  in  thought,  to  have  failed  to  hear  his 
question,  he  added,  "  We  shall  have  a  very  quiet 
winter,  for  she  is  dying.  And  then " 

Lothar  turned  suddenly  and  looked  at  the  speaker. 
"  And  then  ?"  he  asked,  and  his  regular  features  wore 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  89 

for  an  instant  so  menacing  a  look  that  Palmer  did  not 
reply.  "  And  then  ?" 

At  that  moment  the  carriages  were  announced,  and 
Baron  Lothar  strode  past  Palmer  without  awaiting  an 
answer. 

As  he  took  his  seat  opposite  the  ducal  pair  his  face 
had  grown  quite  pale.  The  carriage  rolled  swiftly 
along  the  wonderfully  well  kept  road  and  into  the 
odorous  pine  forest.  The  emaciated  face  of  the  young 
Duchess  showed  in  startling  pallor  in  contrast  with 
the  crimson  silk  tissue  of  her  gown,  but  it  was  instinct 
•with  delight  in  existence,  the  longing  to  live  and  to 
enjoy.  Her  pale  lips  were  parted,  showing  the  small 
pearly  teeth,  her  glittering  eyes  beneath  her  sailor  hat 
with  its  simple  crimson  ribbon  looked  eagerly  into 
the  forest  as  if  to  pierce  its  mysterious  depths,  and 
her  chest  rose  and  fell  as  if  she  were  drinking  in 
health  with  every  breath. 

"Yes — dying  !f>  Lothar  said  to  himself.  "And  then 
— then  ?" 

The  Duke,  leaning  back  among  the  cushions  beside 
his  wife,  seemed  to  have  no  thought  except  for  the 
rustic  fence  that  separated  them  from  the  forest. 

And  then  ?  Baron  G-erold  was  only  too  well  aware 
of  the  secret  known  to  all  the  world ;  it  had  had  wings, 
and  had  pursued  him  to  the  quiet  villa  by  the  Mediter- 
ranean. He  was  not  surprised  when  he  heard  of  the 
Duke's  passion  ;  he  had  seen  its  dawn,  and  had  clinched 
his  fist  the  first  time  he  heard  his  royal  Highness's 
name  coupled  with  hers. 

Her  Highness  began  to  talk,  and  of  Claudine,  and  he 
was  obliged  to  answer,  although  he  would  fain  have 
laid  his  hand  upon  her  lips. 

Behind  them  rolled  the  carriage  containing  the 
8* 


90  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Duchess's  oldest  lady-in-waiting,  the  Freiin  von  Kat- 
zenstein.  Beside  this  kindly  old  lady  sat  Palmer  with 
a  bitter-sweet  smile ;  that  the  Duke  should  find  his 
way  to  the  Owl's  Nest  at  this  early  date  seemed  to 
him  over-eager. 

Suddenly  the  barouche  stood  still.  He  leaned  for- 
ward over  the  side,  and  the  bitter-sweet  smile  deep- 
ened. At  a  little  distance  in  front  was  the  ducal  equi- 
page, and  drawn  up  on  the  side  of  the  road  another, 
— the  Neuhaus  carriage ;  Palmer  recognized  it  by  the 
spirited  horses  and  the  orange  cockade  of  the  coach- 
man. And  then  Baron  G-erold  alighted  and  handed 
to  the  Duchess  a  white  bundle  decorated  with  blue 
ribbons, — his  child. 

"Ah,  Frau  von  Berg  with  Princess  Katharina's 
child,"  said  the  Freiin,  putting  up  her  eye-glasses. 
"  They  say  it  is  a  puny  little  thing.  I  am  sorry  for 
poor  Berg." 

Herr  von  Palmer  leaned  back  in  his  seat  again, 
making  no  reply  to  the  last  remark,  but  still  smiling. 
How  rural  and  domestic  it  all  was!  At  last  the 
horses  started  again,  and  the  Neuhaus  equipage  rolled 
past  them  ;  with  immense  courtesy  the  sallow  little 
man  saluted  the  handsome  woman  beneath  her  gay 
parasol.  She  had  the  child  in  her  lap,  and  her  grayish- 
blue  eyes  met  his  with  a  strange  expression  in  them. 

"  She  is  still  handsome,"  murmured  the  Freiin,  re- 
turning her  salutation  with  a  degree  of  reserve,  "  and, 
good  heavens !  she  cannot  be  very  young !  Let  me  see, 
Palmer;  I  think  it  was  thirteen  years  ago  that  we  met 
her  first  at  Baden-Baden,  when  I  was  there  with  the 
Dowager  Duchess  and  the  Duke, — it  was  at  Countess 
Schomberg's.  And  then  she  came  to  the  capital  with 
her  elderly  husband ;  the  change  of  air  would  do  her 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  91 

good,  she  said."  There  was  a  suspicion  of  mischief  in 
the  old  lady's  good-humoured  smile.  "  I  would  not 
breathe  a  word  against  her;  it  was  so  short  a  period 
of  splendour,  Palmer;  the  Duke  was  married  a  year 
afterwards,  and  since  then  he  has  been  the  most  exem- 
plary of  husbands." 

"Oh,  dear  madame,  his  Highness  always  pursued 
the  path  of  virtue  then,  as  now  ;  who  could  doubt  it  I" 

The  old  lady  scanned  her  companion's  smiling  face, 
and  her  own  flushed  with  irritation.  "  Have  done  with 
your  innuendoes,  Palmer!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  know 
what  you  mean  ;  but  there  never  was,  and  never  will  be, 
an  atom  of  truth  in  it.  Claudine  Gerold " 

"  Ah  !  who  says  a  word  against  Claudine  von  Gerold, 
the  purest  of  the  pure  ?"  he  rejoined,  lifting  his  hat 
above  his  bald  head. 

Frau  von  Katzenstein  flushed  a  deeper  crimson,  bit 
her  lip,  and  was  silent.  This  Palmer  was  an  eel,  it 
was  impossible  to  catch  him  ;  a  Mephistopheles,  a  Tar- 
tuffe.  In  her  indignation  she  could  not  find  epithets 
sufficiently  strong  to  bestow  upon  the  favourite,  so 
universally  disliked. 

"  Here  we  are,"  he  said,  waving  his  gloved  hand  to- 
wards the  ruined  gables  of  the  convent,  in  which  the 
tracery  of  the  mullioned  window  showed  like  lace  upon 
dark  velvet.  Above  the  tower,  as  it  emerged  from  the 
depths  of  shade,  Heinemann's  doves  were  flying  like 
flakes  of  silver,  and  beneath  the  spreading  beechen 
boughs  gleamed  the  flowers  of  the  garden. 

"Positively,  madame,"  said  Herr  von  Palmer,  "it 
is  idyllic,  this  Owl's  Nest ;  a  lovely  nook  in  which  to 
dream  of  future  bliss." 


92  THE  OWL'S  NEST: 

From  the  platform  of  the  gallery  came  a  burst  of 
laughter,  not  precisely  as  melodious  as  might  have 
been  expected  from  lovely  feminine  lips,  it  was  per- 
haps a  little  too  loud,  but  it  was  so  cordial,  so  clear, 
that  even  the  busy  writer  in  the  bell-room  paused  to 
listen,  till  a  smile  chased  from  his  face  the  expression 
of  annoyance  it  had  worn. 

Such  a  sound !  so  honest,  so  frank,  so  absolutely 
healthy;  it  reminded  him  of  a  cool  mountain-brook 
bubbling  over  rocks  and  stones.  A  remarkable  laugh, 
and  it  was  Beata's,  that  '  barbaric  creature's.'  He 
shook  his  head  and  took  up  his  pen,  but  the  laugh  still 
rang  in  his  ears.  Below,  in  the  shadow  of  the  oak, 
Beata  was  wiping  from  her  bright  eyes  tears  of  merri- 
ment. 

She  was  sitting  beside  Claudine  on  the  bench  which 
Heinemann  had  skilfully  constructed  of  beech  branches, 
and  was  giving  her  young  cousin  a  lesson  in  the  use  of 
the  sewing-machine.  The  little  instrument  was  placed 
before  them  on  the  green-painted  garden-table,  and  the 
delicate  hands  of  the  quondam  lady-in-waiting  were 
busied  with  its  complicated  mechanism. 

"  You  look  so  droll,  Claudine  I"  laughed  Beata.  "My 
dearest  child,  your  needle  came  unthreaded  long  ago, 
and  yet  you  go  on  sewing  in  a  perfect  frenzy  of  energy ! 
Look,  there  it  is;  now  it  is  right." 

Claudine,  dressed  in  the  simplest  of  gowns,  was 
working  away,  her  cheeks  crimson  with  eagerness. 
"Only  have  patience  with  me,  Beata;  I  shall  soon 
learn,"  said  she,  examining  her  seam.  "  Before  long  I 
shall  come  and  help  you  with  your  sewing." 

"  Not  exactly,"  Beata  rejoined.  "  What!  with  all  you 
have  to  do,  come  and  help  me,  who  have  a  houseful  of 
servants  tripping  one  another  up  I  If  you  have  a  leisure 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  93 

hour,  you  should  give  it  to  your  piano  or  to  your  easel. 
But  I  have  designs  upon  a  certain  person, — that  Berg. 
Would  you  believe  it,  she  never  even  knits  a  stocking 
for  the  child !     And  when  a  few  days  ago  I  took  her 
some  of  our  finest  homespun   yarn  and  said,  'Here, 
my  dear,  the  child  must  be  well  provided  against  next 
winter;  it  is  cold  here  in  our  mountains,'   her  very 
nose  grew  pale,  and  she  replied  that  her  Grace  the 
Princess  Thekla  would  on  no  account  permit  any  one 
to  interfere  with  her  grand-daughter's  wai'drobe;  and, 
besides,  woollen  stockings  were  unhealthy.     'Indeed?' 
said  I.     'Do  I  look  unhealthy?  or  the  child's  father? 
And  we,  my  dear,  never  wore  anything  until  we  grew 
up  but  homespun  wool  and  homespun  linen.'     She  did 
not  dare  to  reply,  but  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her 
face.     She  tried  to  conceal  her  vexation,  and  coldly 
observed  that  she  had  very  exact  directions  from  the 
Princess.     Good  heavens!  why  was  Lotbar  so  stupid? 
He  is  the  child's  father.     But  when  I  told  him  about 
it  afterwards,  he  only  shrugged  his  shoulders,  without 
a  word.     Just  let  me  have  charge  of  the  puny  little 
creature  for  a  month,  Claudine,  and  you  will  see  won- 
ders ;  it  will  be  as  fresh  and  rosy  as  your  chubby  little 
darling."   She  pointed  to  the  child,  who  was  busy  with 
the  cups  and  saucers  which  Aunt  Claudine  had  produced 
that  morning  from  her  own  doll's  cupboard.     "  More- 
over," Beata  continued,  "your  present  fresh,  natural 
mode  of  life  has  done  you  good.      Your  eyes  are  so 
bright,  and  there  is  the  former  bloom  on  your  cheeks, 
which  you  quite  lost  at  court.     'Tis  fortunate,  child, 
that  there  is  no  one  here  whose  head  you  can  turn; 
you » 

Claudine  was  bending  over  the  sewing-machine,  and 
smiling  as  she   turned  the  little  wheel.     She  did  not 


94  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

observe  Beata's  pause,  nor  the  surprised,  half-terrified 
glance  that  she  cast  down  the  road.  Why,  good 
heavens !  those  were  the  crimson  court-liveries ! 

"  Claudine,  Claudine,  look!"  she  exclaimed.  "Actu- 
ally there  come  the  Duke  and  Duchess  I" 

Claudine  suddenly  leaned  against  the  back  of  the 
bench  upon  which  she  was  sitting,  and  looked  as  if 
about  to  faint,  her  startled  gaze  fixed  upon  the  ap- 
proaching carriages.  Heinemann  came  running  up  the 
garden  path  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  stripping  off  his  apron, 
probably  that  he  might  don  his  ancient  livery ;  Frau- 
lein  Lindenmeyer's  window  was  closed  with  a  rattle, 
and  Beata  was  about  to  take  flight,  when  her  eyes  fell 
upon  Claudine. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  she  whispered,  seizing  the 
girl's  hand.  u  Come,  we  must  go  and  receive  them. 
Or  are  you  ill  ?" 

But  Claudine  had  already  recovered  herself.  She 
hastened  down  to  the  garden,  and  passed  through  it 
with  a  step  as  firm  as  though  she  had  been  treading 
the  polished  floor  at  some  brilliant  court  ball,  her 
carriage  as  gracefully  easy  as  if,  instead  of  her  simple 
gown  and  black  silk  apron,  she  had  been  attired  in 
the  trained  robe  of  light  blue  velvet  in  which  she  had 
but  lately  excited  such  an  enthusiasm  of  admiration. 
Beata  followed  her  with  admiring  eyes.  How  self- 
possessed  was  her  low  courtesy  1  what  grace  in  the 
inclination  of  her  fair  forehead  to  receive  the  Duchess's 
kissl 

Beata  leaned  forward  to  observe  the  gentlemen. 
Good  heavens!  there  stood  Lothar  beside  the  Duke, 
and  they  were  all  walking  towards  the  house,  the 
Duchess  leaning  on  Claudine's  arm.  Beata  hastily 
slipped  through  the  glass  door  into  the  sitting-room 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  95 

and  thence  into  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer's  apartment. 
The  old  lady  had  almost  lost  her  wits  from  the  exciting 
nature  of  the  occasion.  She  was  standing  before  the 
glass,  trying  to  put  on  a  wonderful  cap  with  scarlet 
ribbons,  but  her  trembling  hands  refused  to  put  in  a 
pin  with  any  security.  Poor  old  lady !  she  looked  odd 
enough ;  she  had  put  on  the  waist  of  her  best  black 
silk  gown,  but  had  forgotten  the  skirt,  which  was  still 
hanging  in  the  open  wardrobe.  She  was  trembling  like 
an  aspen. 

"  My  dear  Lindenmeyer,  do  not  be  agitated,"  Beata 
exclaimed,  merrily,  "  but  tell  me  where  the  glass  dishes 
are  that  grandmamma  used  to  have,  and  where  Clau- 
dine  keeps  the  silver  spoons,  and  then  sit  down  in  your 
arm-chair  by  the  window ;  you  are  sufficiently  dressed 
to  do  that,  and  you  can  watch  the  grand  party  in  peace 
as  they  walk  in  the  garden." 

But  the  old  lady  had  so  entirely  lost  her  head  that 
she  declared  that  for  the  present  she  could  not,  to  save 
her  life,  remember  anything.  Then  Beata  laughed, 
and,  closing  the  door  after  her,  ran  up-stairs  to  the 
dreamer's  room.  Of  course  he  had  no  inkling  of  the 
honour  shown  his  household  ;  he  heard  and  saw  naught 
save  his  own  fancies. 

Beata  shook  her  head  as  she  paused  hesitating  at 
the  door  of  the  bell-room.  Her  face  flushed  crimson 
as  she  lifted  the  latch  in  response  to  the '  come  in,'  and 
suddenly  her  stern  face,  with  its  masculine  strength, 
looked  sweet  and  maidenly. 

"  Joachim,  you  have  visitors,"  she  said.  "  Put  on 
your  best  coat  and  come  down ;  the  Duke  and  Duchess 
are  below."  And  when  he  raised  his  eyes  from  his  work 
and  looked  at  her,  half  amazed,  half  vexed,  she  laughed 
the  same  laugh  that  had  resounded  a  while  before. 


96  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  But  make  haste ;  their  Highnesses  will  wonder  at 
the  absence  of  the  master  of  the  house.  I  will  follow 
you  with  some  refreshments." 

Involuntarily,  .he  ran  his  hand  through  his  thick 
brown  hair.  This  was  the  last  thing  he  had  expected 
in  the  Owl's  Nest, — a  visit  from  their  Highnesses  I 
What  did  they  want  of  an  impoverished  man  ?  Ah, 
Claudine ! — they  wanted  Claudine  back  again  ! 

With  a  gloomy  air  he  hurried  out  of  the  room. 
Bcata  lingered  a  little,  looking  around  her  like  some 
shy  child  when  it  goes  to  church  for  the  first  time. 
Then  she  went  on  tiptoe  to  the  writing-table,  and,  with 
her  heart  beating  fast  and  her  cheeks  crimsoned,  peeped 
at  the  sheet  of  paper  across  which  lay  the  pen  that  had 
peen  dropped.  In  letters  of  which  the  ink  was  scarcely 
dry  she  read,  '  A  Few  Thoughts  upon  Laughter.'  She 
» hook  her  head  in  some  bewilderment,  and  looked  from 
"he  manuscript  to  the  open  bookcase,  smiling  again  ; 
and  this  time  her  smile  was  one  of  heartfelt  satisfaction, 
which  still  illumined  her  face  as  she  went  down  to  the 
pantry,  where  she  arranged  fresh,  fragrant  wild  straw- 
berries on  a  salver,  and  went  out  on  the  gallery,  fol- 
lowed by  old  Heinemann,  looking  odd  enough  in  his 
antiquated  Gerold  livery,  his  countenance  composed  to 
an  expression  of  due  solemnity.  As  Beata  made  her 
appearance  the  Duchess  was  just  about  to  visit  the 
cellar  where  the  wax  had  been  discovered,  now  in- 
deed more  than  half  emptied  of  its  store. 

Beata  von  Gerold  had  already  been  presented  to 
their  Highnesses ;  on  the  occasion  of  her  brother's  mar- 
riage with  a  princess  of  the  reigning  family  she  had 
spent  three  of  the  most  uncomfortable  days  of  her  life 
in  the  capital,  had  been  obliged  to  pay  visits  and  to 
receive  them,  had  dined  with  the  Princess  Thekla,  and 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  97 

had  '  endured,'  as  she  expressed  it,  a  ball  at  the  Castle. 
She  had  worn  a  sky-blue  silk  gown  once,  and  a  lemon- 
coloured  satin  once,  and  had  been  wretched  in  each,  be- 
cause the  modiste  could  not  be  induced  to  make  them 
loose  enough  in  the  waist.  And  when,  on  her  return 
to  her  home,  she  donned  once  more  her  elastic  jersey, 
she  had  vowed  that  she  would  rather  break  stones  on 
the  highway  than  live  at  court.  Remembering  all  this, 
her  courtesy  on  the  present  occasion  was  not  very  pro- 
found, and  her  face  wore  the  expression  which  Joachim 
had  stigmatized  as  '  barbaric.' 

"  Let  us  go  to  the  wax-cellar,  then,"  said  the  Duke, 
carefully  wrapping  a  richly-embroidered  shawl  about 
his  wife's  shoulders.  Claudine  took  a  large  key  from 
the  basket  on  the  table  beside  the  sewing-machine  and 
directed  Heinemann  to  show  the  way;  Joachim  es- 
corted their  Highnesses,  while  she  herself  went  into 
the  house  to  get  the  lacking  plates  and  spoons  and  a 
tablecloth. 

She  did  it  with  trembling  hands  and  a  distressed 
look  upon  her  face.  "  Why  should  it  be  ?"  she  mur- 
mured. '"'Why  should  it  be,  here  too?"  She  leaned 
her  head  against  the  corner  of  the  old  oaken  press  that 
held  her  grandmother's  store  of  linen,  as  if  seeking 
some  material  support  in  the  tempest  that  filled  her 
soul.  "  Be  calm !"  she  whispered,  pressing  her  hand 
upon  her  breast,  as  if  to  quiet  the  throbbing  of  her 
heart.  And  she  recovered  her  self-possession  ;  when,  a 
few  minutes  afterwards,  she  prepared  to  follow  the  party 
to  the  cellar,  her  face  was  as  serene  as  ever. 

"  Stay !"   said  a  deep  voice   from  the  cellar-vaults ; 

"  thus  far  and  no  farther.    You  have  no  wrap,  and  it  is 

very  cool  down  here."      Baron  Lothar  was  standing 

below  her  with  his  hand  extended.     "  Try  to  control 

B  9 


98  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

your  impatience,  my  fair  cousin,"  he  continued,  and 
there  was  something  like  contempt  in  his  tone.  "  I 
hear  their  Highnesses  returning.  Was  not  that  the 
Duke's  voice  ?  or  am  I  mistaken  ?" 

She  looked  him  full  in  the  face  with  a  slight  shrug. 
His  tone  was  so  strange,  almost  menacing. 

"  We  had  better  await  their  Highnesses  up  there," 

he  went  on ;  "  here "  He  paused,  for  she  had 

turned  and  was  mounting  the  steps  leading  to  the  hall 
of  the  house,  whence  she  went,  without  turning  to  look 
back,  out  on  the  gallery.  He  followed  her,  and  stood 
leaning  against  the  frame  of  the  glass  door,  observing 
the  simply-spread  table.  There  was  nothing  to  recall 
an  ancient,  wealthy  race, — the  dishes  were  of  plain  glass 
and  the  spoons  were  thin  and  worn.  The  silver-plate 
of  the  family  was  in  his  cupboards.  The  damask  linen 
table-cloth  alone  showed  the  G-erold  scutcheon  in  its 
four  corners,  a  masterpiece  of  the  weaver's  art.  It  had 
•been  brought  hither  by  the  old  widow  in  memory  of 
the  first  day  when  it  had  been  used, — the  day  when 
her  infant  son  was  christened. 

"Our  arms,"  he  said,  indicating  the  leaping  stag 
with  a  star  between  its  horns,  that  stood  out  like  satin 
on  the  fabric.  "  It  has  been  stainless,  this  scutcheon 
of  ours,  for  centuries ;  not  once  has  the  splendour  of 
that  star  been  dimmed.  The  race  has  had  misfortunes, 
has  succumbed  to  destiny,  but  its  honour  has  been  pre- 
served untarnished,  by  its  men  and  its  women,  until 
to-day " 

The  girl  whom  he  confronted  shrank  as  from  the 
sting  of  an  adder,  and  a  piteous  glance  from  her  blue 
eyes  appealed  to  him;  but  her  words  died  upon  her 
lips,  for  at  that  moment  their  Highnesses  appeared, 
and  Lothar  hastened  to  meet  them.  The  Duke,  walk- 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  99 

ing  with  Joachim,  followed  his  wife,  who  was  leaning 
upon  the  old  Freiin's  arm.  Behind  them  came  a  very 
ill-assorted  pair,  Beata  with  Palmer,  who  was  a  head 
shorter  than  his  companion.  She  was  listening  with  a 
smile  of  contempt  to  his  chatter,  and  when  the  party 
sat  down  she  took  a  chair  as  far  from  him  as  possible. 

"And  that  large  cellar  was  quite  full?"  the  Duchess 
asked,  as  she  took  her  place;  and  then,  without  waiting 
for  an  answer,  she  ran  on,  "  Oh,  wild  strawberries  I  how 
I  love  them !  They  certainly  are  a  thousand  times 
more  fragrant  than  those  grown  in  our  gardens  and 
hot-houses. — Do  you  know,  Adalbert,"  and  she  turned 
to  the  Duke,  who  was  still  standing  talking  with  Joa- 
chim, "that  I  should  so  like  to  go  strawberrying  with 
the  children  in  the  forest!  we  might  have  a  charming 
picnic. — HeiT  von  Palmer,  pray  have  one  arranged 
somewhere  where  the  berries  are  thickest,  and  let  it 
be  soon,  soon ;  we  must  make  the  most  of  our  time  in 
this  lovely  place." 

They  all  sat  down  round  the  table,  and  Claudine 
handed  about  the  bowl  of  fruit.  When  she  offered 
it  to  the  Duke,  he  simply  refused  with  a  wave  of  his 
hand  to  take  any,  and,  without  looking  at  her,  went 
on  attending  to  what  Joachim  was  saying.  She  then 
approached  the  Neuhauser ;  he,  too,  refused.  Upon 
which  she  also  took  her  place  at  the  table,  and  sat 
quietly  looking  down  at  little  Elizabeth,  who  had 
slipped  to  her  side  and  stood  leaning  against  her  lap. 
She  was  roused  from  her  revery  by  the  voice  of  the 
Duchess : 

"My  dear  Fraulein  von  Gerold,  you  must  come 
often  to  Altenstein ;  we,  my  husband  and  I,  have  de- 
termined to  lay  aside  all  etiquette  and  formality  while 
we  are  here,  and  be  only  good  neighbours,  visiting  one 


100  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

another  frequently.  "We  are  going  to  drop  in  upon 
the  Neuhausers,  too. — Yes,  yes,  Fraulein  von  Gerold," 
she  said  to  Beata,  "  I  must  have  a  glimpse  of  your 
wonderfully-ordered  establishment,  and  I  hope  to  see 
you  soon  at  Altenstein." 

"  Tour  Highness  will  confer  great  honour  upon  our 
house  by  your  presence  there,  but  you  must  be  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  excuse  me,"  Beata  dryly  replied. 
"  My  domestic  duties  do  not  allow  me  to  leave  home 
often  or  for  long;  its  welfare  is  intrusted  to  me,  and 
I  occupy  the  post  of  housekeeper  for  my  brother.  One 
must  be  doubly  careful,  your  Highness,  in  administering 
the  affairs  of  others." 

The  Duchess  looked  surprised  for  a  moment  by  the 
speaker's  frankness,  and  then,  with  a  gracious  smile, 
observed,  "  The  Gerolds  were  always  loyal  to  duty ;  I 
must  bear  my  disappointment.  But  3rou,  Fraulein 
Claudine  von  Gerold,  you  ?  "We  reckon  certainly  upon 
you. — Do  we  not,  Adalbert?" 

"  Beg  pardon.  What  did  you  say  ?  I  was  not  listen- 
ing, Liesel." 

"  You  must  ratify  what  I  say,"  she  went  on,  kindly. 
"We  depend  upon  mamma's  favourite  while  we  are 
at  Altenstein,  and  we  wish  to  have  Fraulein  Claudine 
von  Gerold  with  us  often,  do  we  not  ?" 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  beneath  the  oak; 
the  setting  sun  gilded  each  leaf  and  sent  quivering 
rays  and  gleams  of  light  to  dart  among  its  branches  ; 
its  glow  seemed  to  be  reflected  in  Claudine's  face,  and 
then  she  grew  very  pale. 

"  It  is  certainly  true,  Fraulein  von  Gerold," — and  the 
tone  of  the  voice  that  fell  on  her  ear  was  so  calm  and 
indifferent  that  the  turmoil  in  her  soul  was  suddenly 
soothed, — "it  is  certainly  true  that  the  Duchess  has 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  101 

been  looking  forward  to  practising  with  you  at  Alten- 
stein."  And  then,  turning  again  to  Joachim,  he  asked, 
"How  did  it  end?  Did  the  man  die  of  the  wound, 
or " 

"  He  is  still  living,  your  Highness,  and  is  as  much  of 
a  poacher  as  ever." 

Everybody  knew  that  when  once  the  Duke  began  to 
discuss  hunting  and  kindred  subjects  he  was  lost  to 
everything  else.  Palmer  alone  smiled  incredulously, 
and  watched  Claudine,  whose  bosom  felt  lightened  of  a 
load. 

"As  your  Highness  pleases,"  she  said,  gently;  "  but 
I  have  not  sung  a  note  for  a  long  while;  my  time  is  too 
much  occupied." 

The  Duchess  coughed  slightly ;  the  first  cool  breeze 
of  evening  began  to  play  among  the  trees,  and  the  in- 
valid's pale  cheeks  flushed  feverishly. 

The  Duke  started.  "It  is  time  to  go,"  he  said. 
"  Order  the  carriages." 

The  footman,  who  had  been  standing  motionless  at 
the  garden  gate,  beckoned  to  the  carriages  passing 
slowly  to  and  fro,  and  in  a  very  short  time  the  distin- 
guished guests  had  taken  their  places  in  them  and 
were  driving  towards  home. 

"  It  is  time  we  were  thinking  of  going,  too,  Lothar," 
Beata  said  to  her  brother.  He  nodded  assent,  and 
shook  Joachim's  hand,  but  when  he  turned  to  take 
leave  of  Claudine,  she  had  vanished. 

Beata,  going  to  get  her  hat  and  sunshade,  found  her 
in  the  kitchen,  busy  preparing  a  saucer  of  strawberries, 
as  she  said,  for  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer. 

"  Where  have  you  hidden  yourself?  "We  must  go, 
Claudine,"  Beata  began,  pulling  on  her  spun-silk  gloves. 
"  This  has  been  a  very  exciting  day.  I  congratulate 

9* 


102  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

you  on  your  sociable  neighbours ;  tbey  may  prove  very- 
agreeable.  Always  keep  something  in  the  house, — a 
couple  of  cakes  or  so.  Her  Highness  von  Altenstein 
will  come  often ;  she  enjoys  her  role,  as  did  Queen 
Louise  at  Paretz.  Ah,  Claudine,  I  believe  it  is  the 
very  anguish  of  death  that  drives  that  poor  creature 
from  one  thing  to  another  so  restlessly ;  did  you  ob- 
serve that  she  could  scarcely  breathe?  But  I  must 
go.  That  fat  Berg  will  be  hungry,  and  they  cannot 
get  into  the  pantry;  I  saw  to  that.  Good-by,  Clau- 
dine ;  come  soon,  and  bring  the  child  with  you."  She 
pressed  Claudine's  hand  and  hurried  out. 

Claudine  carried  the  strawberries  to  Praulein  Lin- 
denmeyer,  whom  she  found  still  sitting  in  her  petti- 
coat and  the  cap  with  red  ribbons;  little  Elizabeth 
was  in  her  lap,  listening  to  a  lovely  story  about  a 
wondrously  beautiful  girl  who  married  a  prince. 

"A  duke,"  the  child  corrected  her;  and  then,  per- 
ceiving Claudine,  she  asked,  "May  I  stay  here  awhile, 
aunt  ?" 

But  her  aunt  did  not  hear ;  she  was  listening  to  the 
rumbling  of  carriage-wheels  dying  away  on  the  forest 
road. 

"  Oh,  heavens,  Fraulein  Claudine  !"  exclaimed  Frau- 
lein  Lindenmeyer,  delighted  to  be  able  at  last  to  discuss 
the  great  event,  and  letting  the  child  slip  down  from 
her  lap  as  she  arose,  "  what  a  handsome  man  our 
gracious  Duke  is  !  Every  inch  a  duke!  As  he  walked 
through  the  garden  beside  Herr  Joachim  I  could  not 
help  thinking  of  what  Schiller  says: 

1  So  grand  his  port ;  his  falcon  glance.' 

Ah,  Fraulein  Claudine,  if  your  grandmother  could 
only  have  lived  to  see  you  all  sitting  in  the  gallery  and 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  103 

eating  strawberries  together  like  one  family !  Ah,  dear 
Fraulein  Claudine !" 

"Aunt  Claudine,  I  like  Cousin  Lothar  better,"  said 
the  child.  "  Cousin  Lothar  has  nicer  eyes." 

The  young  lady  suddenly  turned  and  walked  towards 
the  door  without  a  word.  She  mounted  the  narrow 
staircase  and  tapped  at  Joachim's  door.  Entering,  she 
found  him  pacing  the  room  to  and  fro  with  an  utterly 
bewildered  expression  of  countenance.  "  My  ideas  are 
in  sad  confusion,"  he  complained.  "Alas  for  my  de- 
licious solitude !  Claudine,  do  not  misunderstand  mo. 
You  know  how  I  love  and  honour  our  reigning  family, 
how  proud  I  am  that  my  beautiful  sister  should  attract 

them  to  our  forest  nook.  But,  Claudine Are  you 

vexed  that  I  say  this  ?"  suddenly  aware  of  the  shadow 
upon  her  brow. 

She  shook  her  head.  "  No,  Joachim  ;  why  should  I 
be  ?  But  I  am  sorry  for  you,  and  we  will  frankly  tell 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  that  nothing,  absolutely  nothing, 
must  disturb  you  at  your  work." 

He  paused  before  her  and  patted  her  cheek.  "  No, 
my  child,"  he  rejoined;  "as  a  former  lady-in-waiting, 
you  must  know  that  such  a  course  would  be  impos- 
sible. It  was  amiability  itself  in  their  Highnesses  to 
pay  us  a  visit.  Such  a  repulse  as  Beata  gave  them  in 
her  blunt  fashion  they  must  not  meet  with  from  us. 
That  Beata,"  he  went  on,  "fairly  took  my  breath 
away  when  she  blurted  out  her  reply.  I  cannot  un- 
derstand how  Lothar  could  listen  so  composedly ;  it 
shocked  me  intensely." 

"  But  your  work,  Joachim, — you  may  be  sure  that 
fhe  Duchess  would  be  inconsolable  if  she  thought  she 
had  interrupted  you." 

"  She  is   a  lovely  creature,  Claudine,  an  enthusiast 


104  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

for  all  that  is  beautiful,  and  she  is  ill,  very  ill.  Did  you 
hear  her  cough  ?  It  cut  me  to  the  heart.  It  was  pre- 
cisely like  her  cough,  Claudine !  Oh,  this  cruel  disease ! 
No,  no,  Claudine ;  if  only  for  the  sake  of  that  fading 
life,  let  them  always  be  welcome  to  the  Owl's  Nest." 

His  sister  made  no  reply.  She  had  gone  to  the  bow- 
window,  through  which  the  crimson  glow  of  evening 
shone  into  the  room,  and  was  looking,  with  distress  in 
her  eyes,  far  away  beyond  the  tree-tops.  No,  she 
could  not,  she  must  not,  burden  him  with  fresh  care  j 
she  must  not  disturb  him ;  and  perhaps  it  no  longer 
existed, — that  blind,  unreasoning  passion.  Not  one 
ardent  look  had  she  encountered  this  afternoon ;  he 
had  scarcely  glanced  towards  her.  She  nodded  her 
head  mechanically,  as  if  controverting  an  inward  con- 
viction. Yes,  perhaps  his  courtesy,  his  magnanimity, 
his  chivalry,  had  been  victorious,  and  the  sight  of  that 
fading  life She  might  be  reassured,  she  might  hope. 

Her  brother  approached  her  and  took  her  hand. 
"  Does  the  solitude  here  make  you  melancholy,  Clau- 
dine?" he  asked,  tenderly.  "  To-day,  when  our  house 
was  illuminated  by  a  gleam  from  your  past  life,  every- 
thing here  seemed  unspeakably  poor  and  mean ;  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that  it  was  a  sin  to  fetter  you  thus,  you 
royal  swan." 

"  Joachim,"  she  exclaimed,  laughing,  although  there 
were  tears  in  her  eyes,  "  if  you  only  knew  how  I  like 
to  be  here,  how  dear  and  home-like  all  this  poverty 
seems  to  me,  you  would  not  talk  so.  No,  I  am  not 
sad ;  I  am  really  happier  than  I  have  been  for  a  long 
time.  And  now  I  must  go  down  and  attend  to  our 
supper;  there  is  very  little,  to  be  sure,  besides  lettuce 
and  eggs,  but  you  have  no  idea,  Joachim,  how  tender 
and  crisp  Heinemann's  lettuce  is." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  105 

She  presented  her  cheek  for  his  kiss  and  went,  giving 
him  a  little  nod  as  she  stood  in  the  door-way.  And 
the  tap  of  the  heels  of  her  slippers  on  the  stairs,  and 
the  fresh  melody  of  her  voice,  resounded  cheeringly 
in  the  ears  of  the  solitary  man,  standing  where  she 
had  stood  at  the  window.  If  only  the  melancholy  in 
her  eyes  had  not  contradicted  it  all ! 

A  few  hours  later  the  Owl's  Nest  was  as  calm  and 
quiet  as  if  the  forest  had  sung  it  to  sleep  with  its  rustling ; 
only  in  Claudine's  chamber  a  light  was  still  shining. 
Its  owner  was  seated  at  the  old-fashioned  writing-table, 
which  managed  to  maintain  its  equilibrium  upon  ridic- 
ulously thin  legs,  and  which  had  once  formed  part  of 
the  furniture  of  her  grandmother's  maiden  chamber 
fur  away  in  Southern  Prussia.  She  had  opened  several 
drawers,  and  was  rummaging  among  letters  and  pressed 
flowers  and  all  kinds  of  boxes.  Yes,  the  lovely,  haughty 
lady-in-waiting,  with  all  her  self-possession,  was  only  a 
girl,  a  genuine  girl,  with  a  heart  that  fluttered  amid 
secret  hopes  and  fears,  else  why  should  she  press  to  her 
lips,  as  she  did,  while  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  a  little 
slip  of  paper  on  which  a  few  notes  of  music  were 
written  ? — only  a  couple  of  lines  of  written  music,  and 
the  words,  '  Wouldst  thou  but  be  mine  own,  love,  none 
should  our  secret  know.'  She  had  once  been  asked 
by  her  dear  old  Princess  to  sing  it,  and  the  notes  were 
not  to  be  found ;  one  of  those  present  had  gone  to  a 
writing-table  and  had  jotted  down  the  lovely  air  from 
memory,  and  then  she  had  sung  the  song.  She  knew 
she  had  sung  well  that  evening.  And  when  she  had 
finished,  one  pair  of  eyes  had  paid  her  the  homage 
of  unconcealed  admiration,  but  only  that  once, — never 
again  1  It  had  lasted  but  a  second, — that  look  which 
met  hers, — and  then  his  gaze  had  rested  upon  the 


106  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Princess  Katharina,  beside  whose  chair  he  stood,  a 
courteous  cavalier,  always  obedient,  in  a  sort  of  smiling 
indifference,  to  his  lady's  whim.  And  the  bold  black 
eyes  of  the  young  Princess  had  gazed  up  into  his  face, 
as  if  repeating  the  words,  '  Wouldst  thou  but  be  mine 
own!' 

That  evening  must  have  faded  from  his  memory,  or 
he  would  not  have  spoken  so  irritably  a  while  ago  of 
his  love  for  music ;  but  she  had  never  been  able  to  for- 
get it.  It  was  thon  that  another  pair  of  eyes  had  first 
sought  her  own  with  so  ardent  an  expression  that  she 
had  been  terrified  indeed. 

'  Wouldst  thou  but  be  mine  own !' 

She  sprang  up  and  walked  from  the  writing-table  to 
the  window  and  back  again  in  extreme  agitation.  Her 
eyes  wandered  about  the  room  as  if  seeking  help,  and 
as  she  paused  before  the  writing-table  she  looked  down 
at  a  small  pastel  picture  of  a  lovely  female  face,  the 
richly-carved  frame  that  enclosed  it  surmounted  by  a 
stag's  head,  between  the  branching  horns  of  which 
shone  a  star,  that  gleamed  in  the  dim  candle-light 
with  a  metallic  lustre.  An  expression  of  supreme  mel- 
ancholy appeared  on  the  girl's  face.  "  Ah,  mother,"  she 
whispered,  "  if  you  were  but  living,  and  I  could  tell  you 
all !" 

She  stood  before  the  picture  with  hands  folded  as  in 
prayer. 


The  next  day  at  noon  heavy  clouds  came  up  from 
behind  the  mountains  and  emptied  themselves  in  the 
Paulinenthal.  Old  Heinemann,  with  many  a  sigh, 
watched  the  tempest  beating  down  his  flowers,  and  the 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  107 

water  loosening  the  tender  roots  of  bis  freshly-planted 
vegetables  and  nearly  sweeping  them  away. 

"Oh,  heavens!"  he  wailed  in  the  kitchen,  where  he 
was  '  washing  up'  like  a  regular  scullery-maid.  "  Only 
look,  Fraulein  Claudine;  this  is  a  perfect  storm!"  He 
pointed  through  the  window  to  the  fir-clad  mountains, 
where  thin  columns  of  mist  could  be  seen  rising  here  and 
there.  "  The  Stag  is  smoking  his  pipe ;  you  may  rely 
upon  it,  the  rain  will  last  for  three  days,  if  it  only  stops 
then!  It's  just  pouring  over  there,  and  very  gloomy 
down  here." 

And  so  it  was ;  a  genuine  mountain-rain  set  in ;  the 
water  dripped  and  trickled  on  the  steep  roads ;  the  little 
brook  among  the  hemlocks  was  muddy  and  swollen,  and 
all  the  flowers  hung  their  heads. 

The  child  stood  with  her  doll  at  the  window  of  Frau- 
lein Lindenmeyer's  room,  flattening  her  nose  against 
the  panes,  and  asking  when  it  would  be  done  raining, 
that  she  might  run  out  in  the  garden.  And  the  old 
lady  sat  busily  knitting,  and  turning  her  head  now  and 
then,  from  habit,  to  observe  the  passers-by,  but  in  vain. 
Only  the  lame  errand-woman,  dripping  wet,  drove  her 
skinny  horse  past  the  gate,  her  petticoat  thrown  over 
her  head,  and  her  horse  covered  with  oil-cloth,  while 
the  water  poured  out  of  the  back  of  her  wagon. 

Claudine  was  pursuing  her  studies  upon  the  sewing- 
machine  in  the  sitting-room,  her  cheeks  flushed  with 
pride  in  her  first  faultless  seam.  Yes,  labour — even  de- 
spised, mechanical,  feminine  labour — is  a  blessing;  it 
serves  to  beguile  many  an  hour  of  sorrow.  Joachim 
was  buried  in  his  books.  It  was  the  very  weather  for 
work,  he  said  at  table,  and  as  soon  as  dinner  was  over 
he  returned  to  his  manuscript  and  was  oblivious  to  all 
else. 


108  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

The  next  day  it  still  rained  steadily,  and  on  the  next 
still  harder.  In  the  Altenstein  manor-house  there  was 
little  more  cheer  than  was  to  be  found  outside.  The 
Duchess  was  weary  and  out  of  sorts,  and  coughed  con- 
tinually ;  the  gloomy  weather  suggested  sad  thoughts 
of  the  future.  She  tried  to  be  cheerful,  and  wrote  a 
letter  to  her  sister ;  but  tears  had  suddenly  fallen  upon 
the  paper,  and  she  could  not  add  to  the  grief  of  the 
young  widow  by  any  hint  that  she  was  worse  than 
usual.  Then  she  went  down  into  the  spacious  central 
hall,  where  her  two  eldest  sons  were  having  a  fencing- 
lesson  ;  for  a  moment  or  two  the  gallant  bearing  of 
her  handsome,  fair-haired  darlings  filled  her  with  de- 
light, but  the  old  feeling  of  weakness  suddenly  over- 
came her,  and  Frau  von  Katzenstein  had  to  conduct 
her  back  to  her  couch.  After  a  while  she  had  her 
youngest  boy  brought  to  her, — the  child  whose  coming 
into  the  world  had  so  exhausted  her  failing  vitality, — a 
splendid  rosy  fellow,  glowing  with  health,  and  she 
gazed  with  ecstasy  into  his  laughing  blue  eyes.  How 
like  he  was  to  his  father,  the  husband  whom  she  so 
worshipped!  And  suddenly  she  arose,  with  the  boy  in 
her  arms,  and  walked  towards  the  door  of  her  room. 

Frau  von  Katzenstein  and  the  maid  rushed  towards 
her  to  take  the  little  Prince  from  her,  but  she  refused, 
smiling,  to  give  up  the  boy,  saying,  "  No,  please ;  I 
want  to  surprise  the  Duke."  And  she  went  on  tiptoe 
across  the  polished  floor  of  the  drawing-room  that  sep- 
arated his  apartments  from  hers,  and  paused,  panting, 
before  the  door  of  his  room. 

It  was  delightful  here  in  Altenstein  to  have  him  so 
near, — to  be  able  to  run  to  him,  like  any  other  happy 
wife,  carrying  her  child  to  its  father.  She  took  the 
boy's  little  hand  and  made  it  knock  at  the  door. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  109 

"  Papa !"  she  cried ;  "  dear  papa,  let  us  in ;  it  is  we, — 
Liesel  and  Adi!" 

Within,  a  drawer  was  closed,  and  immediately  after- 
wards the  door  opened ;  the  Duke,  in  a  black  velvet 
morning-coat,  appeared  on  the  threshold,  evidently 
surprised  by  this  visit.  Palmer  was  standing  by  the 
writing-table,  his  hand  full  of  papers,  and  several  sheets 
were  spread  out  upon  the  table. 

"  Oh,  I  am  interrupting  you,  Adalbert,"  the  young 
wife  said,  coughing.  The  chamber  was  filled  with, 
smoke  from  Turkish  cigarettes. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  Liesel?"  he  asked. 
"  Excuse  this  smoke,  it  makes  you  cough  ;  you  know  I 
am  addicted  to  smoking  when  I  am  at  work.  Come, 
let  me  take  you  to  your  rooms;  this  is  no  place  for 
you." 

She  slowly  shook  her  head.  "  I  wanted  nothing." 
And,  with  a  glance  towards  Palmer,  she  suppressed  the 
words,  "  I  only  wanted  to  see  you,  to  bring  the  child 
to  you." 

"Nothing?"  he  repeated,  with  a  slightly  impatient 
emphasis,  as  he  took  the  child  from  her.  "  But  come, 
you  must  not  stay  here." 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  she  was  sitting  again  in 
her  easy-chair,  alone.  He  had  work  to  do  :  he  was  dis- 
cussing the  building  of  a  new  Academy  to  be  founded 
at  Neurode, — a  very  important  matter.  When  she  had 
asked,  "  Will  you  not  take  five  o'clock  tea  with  me, 
Adalbert?"  he  had  replied,  absently,  "Perhaps,  my 
love,  if  I  have  time ;  but  do  not  wait  for  me." 

Five  o'clock  struck,  and  she  waited,  when  suddenly 
the  noise  of  carriage-wheels  sounded  beneath  her  win- 
dow. It  was  the  Duke  ;  he  was  driving  out,  and  in  such 
weather !  Oh,  yes,  she  had  forgotten  j  he  had  spoken 

10 


HO  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

yesterday  of  driving  over  to  Oakshade,  the  ancient 
ducal  hunting-lodge,  which  was  to  be  restored.  She 
leaned  back  sadly  among  her  cushions.  How  desolate 
these  strange  rooms  were,  with  the  rain  beating  against 
the  windows,  and  so  lonely !  The  child  was  in  his 
nursery  again  ;  the  Duke  did  not  like  to  have  her  keep 
him  long  with  her,  because  his  joyous  restlessness 
fatigued  her.  The  physician  daily  enjoined  it  upon 
her  to  avoid  exertion, — a  hard  rule  for  a  mother.  Frau 
von  Katzenstein,  to  be  sure,  sat  in  the  anteroom,  sleep- 
ing or  reading,  but  there  might  as  well  have  been  no 
one  there ;  the  kind  old  lady  did  not  understand  her ; 
she  cared  only  for  the  bodily  weal  of  her  '  sweetest 
Highness,'  and  so  did  her  lady's-maid ;  but  ah,  this  lone- 
liness! She  picked  up  the  book  that  she  had  dropped ; 
her  eyes  ached,  she  could  not  read  any  more.  It 
was  a  terrible  story ;  one  knew  beforehand  that  the 
heroine  would  end  in  suicide  ;  it  was  the  fashion  now- 
adays. And  when  one  is  sad  to  begin  with,  and  the 
rain  is  pouring  outside  as  if  it  never  were  going  to 
stop,  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  read  what  will  make 
one  yet  sadder.  If  there  were  only  a  single  soul  to 
talk  to,  as  she  used  to  talk  to  her  sister  at  home  !  Ah, 
yes,  that  would  make  it  home-like  here,  with  a  bi'ight 
fire  on  the  hearth  in  the  twilight  and  the  rain  pouring 
outside. 

And  all  at  once  she  saw  with  her  mind's  eye  Clau- 
dine  von  Gerold,  in  her  simple  gown,  her  basket  of 
keys  on  her  arm,  presiding  with  such  grace  over  her 
brother's  poor  household ;  how  serene  she  seemed,  how 
happy,  and  how  fitted  to  bestow  happiness  I  Claudine 
had  always  contrasted  so  finely  with  the  other  ladies-in- 
waiting  ;  not  for  worlds  would  her  Highness  have  had 
with  her  here  in  Altenstein  the  little  Countess  H.,  with 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  Ill 

her  soubrette  face  and  wayward  disposition,  or  Fraulein 
von  X.,  who  scarcely  ever  really  opened  her  eyes,  and 
who  never  smiled ;  she  never  had  the  least  desire  to 
see  anything  tnore  of  them.  But  Claudine, — Claudine 
von  Gerold  !  And  suddenly  she  felt  a  positive  longing 
for  the  gentle  girl  with  the  earnest  blue  eyes.  She 
pressed  the  button  of  the  silver  bell  on  the  table  beside 
her,  and  then  wrote  a  few  hurried  lines  at  her  writing- 
table. 

"  Take  this  letter  to  Fraulein  von  Gerold.  Let  a 
carriage  be  sent  for  her.  Make  haste !" 

A  feverish  restlessness  possessed  her.  In  an  hour 
she  might  be  here.  She  ordei-ed  a  fire  made  on  the 
hearth,  and  had  the  tea-table  arranged  near  it. 

Then  she  wandered  to  and  fro  in  the  room,  now  and 
then  going  to  the  window  and  looking  out  into  the 
rain.  An  hour  passed,  and  she  did  not  come.  But 
hark!  a  carriage!  She  left  the  window,  her  heart 
beating  like  that  of  a  young  girl  awaiting  her  lover, 
and  she  laughed  at  herself.  "  Christine  would  call  me 
4  fanatical'  again,"  she  said  to  herself,  thinking  of  her 
sister, — when,  to  her  surprise,  Baron  Gerold  was  an- 
nounced '  by  appointment  with  her  Highness.'  She 
had  quite  forgotten  it.  To-day  ?  Yes,  it  must  be  so ! 
True,  she  had  begged  him  to  come  and  give  her  some 
information  with  regard  to  the  reported  poverty  in 
Walderode,  the  village  in  the  vicinity. 

She  was  delighted  to  see  him,  and  made  minute  in- 
quiries of  him,  but  between-whiles  she  listened  eagerly. 
"  I  seem  absent,  Baron  ;  I  am  expecting  a  visitor,"  she 
said,  laughing,  when  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  an  ex- 
planation as  to  the  structure  of  an  almshouse,  she 
turned  to  the  window.  "  Guess  whom  !  But  no,  do  not 
guess,  and  then  you  will  have  a  surprise.  Then,  my 


112  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

dear  Gerold,  if  you  undertake  to  build  this  house,  you 
may  rely  upon  my  help." 

"  Your  Highness  is,  as  ever,  kindness  itself,"  said 
Lothar,  rising. 

"  His  Highness,"  Frau  von  Katzenstein  suddenly 
announced,  and  immediately  afterwards  the  Duke 
entered. 

"Oh,  how  pleasant,  Liesel!"  he  said,  gayly,  kissing 
the  delicate  hand  held  out  to  him.  "And  you,  dear 
Baron,  do  you  know  I  was  just  sending  my  huntsman 
for  you  ?  I  thought  of  having  a  game  of  ombre  this 
evening.  It  is  just  the  weather  for  ombre,  eh?" 

"  I  am  at  your  Higbness's  commands." 

The  Duke  smothered  a  yawn  and  sat  down  near 
the  fire ;  old  Frau  von  Katzenstein  was  busy  at  a  side- 
table  making  the  tea;  a  lackey  went  noiselessly  to  and 
fro  in  the  room,  and  finally  stood  like  a  shadow  at  the 
door,  awaiting  the  moment  when  he  should  hand  about 
the  cups.  The  twilight  had  gathered  quickly;  it  was 
difficult  to  distinguish  the  faces  of  those  present ;  now 
and  then  a  flame  would  flicker  forth  in  the  chimney 
and  cast  a  momentary  light  upon  the  Duke.  He 
looked  weary,  and  his  large,  white  hand  continually 
stroked  his  fair,  full  beard. 

"It  is  very  lonely  here  on  such  days  as  this,"  he 
began  at  last.  "  We  positively  met  no  one  on  the  road, 
my  dear  Gerold,  except  your  lady  sister.  She  was 
walking  with  great  determination  along  the  wet,  de- 
serted high-road  in  a  waterproof  and  with  an  umbrella, 
apparently  as  content  as  if  it  were  a  delicious  May 
morning.  She  was  probably  going  to  the  Owl's  Nest, 
for  she  turned  to  the  right." 

"  Very  likely,  your  Highness ;  she  is  not  easily  pre- 
vented by  the  weather  from  paying  her  cousin  a  visit." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  113 

The  Duke  took  one  of  the  cups,  which  were  all 
decorated  with  his  scutcheon.  "  She  is  to  be  envied," 
he  said  in  an  undertone,  putting  a  huge  lump  of  sugar 
into  the  steaming  tea. 

"For  her  health,  your  Highness  thinks?  It  is  a 
fact  that  none  of  the  Gerolds  know  what  nerves  are ; 
they  have,  to  quote  your  Highness's  favourite  author, 
'  nerves  of  steel  and  bones  of  ivory.'  " 

"  Of  course  that  is  what  I  meant."  Then,  hastily 
draining  his  cup,  he  asked,  "  Is  it  your  fashion  now  to 
sit  in  the  dark,  Liesel  ?  You  used  to  like  light  above 
all  things." 

"  Fraulein  Claudine  von  Gerold!"  the  old  Frau  von 
Katzenstein  suddenly  announced. 

The  rustle  of  a  silk  dress  was  audible,  and  a  rich, 
feminine  voice  spoke :  "  I  am  here,  your  Highness." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  Claudine !"  exclaimed  the  Duchess, 
motioning  her  to  a  chair:  "I  trust  my  impatient  sum- 
mons did  not  inconvenience  you." 

At  that  moment  the  lights  in  the  hanging-lamps 
flamed  up  more  clearly  and  revealed  the  crimson-hung 
apartment,  casting  a  mild  white  light  upon  the  little 
group  of  people  around  the  hearth. 

The  Duke,  as  well  as  Baron  Gerold,  had  risen,  and 
both  were  looking  at  the  beautiful  girl  with  the  same 
expression  of  surprise.  There  was  a  sudden  light  in 
the  Duke's  eyes,  which,  however,  instantly  gave  place 
to  the  old  expression  of  apathy.  A  frown  gathered 
upon  the  Baron's  brow,  but  that  vanished  also  imme- 
diately. And  there  beside  the  Duchess's  sofa  she  stood, 
her  simple  black  silk  gown  showing  her  magnificent 
figure  to  the  best  advantage.  There  was  scarcely  a 
trace  of  colour  in  her  face,  and,  after  a  low  courtesy  to 
his  Highness,  she  stood  looking  down  at  the  Duchess, 
h  10* 


114  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

who  motioned  her  again  to  the  chair  that  had  been 
placed  for  her,  and  asking  if  she  were  well, — she  looked 
so  pale, — begged  her  to  take  a  glass  of  wine  after  her 
cool  drive. 

The  Duke  did  not  sit  down  again ;  he  leaned  upon 
the  mantel-piece,  watching  with  great  apparent  in- 
terest the  proceedings  of  the  old  Freiin,  who  had  just 
approached  her  royal  mistress  with  a  basket  of  gay 
worsted,  but  who  withdrew  at  a  gesture  from  the 
Duchess,  who  was  speaking.  He  took  no  part  in  the 
conversation,  in  which  the  Duchess  included  Lothar, 
whose  remarks,  however,  sounded  constrained. 

"  I  suspect  our  ombre  table  is  ready  for  us,"  the 
Duke  said  suddenly,  and,  with  a  light  kiss  upon  his 
wife's  forehead  and  a  slight  bow  to  Claudine,  he  left 
the  room,  followed  by  Lothar. 

"  Dearest  Katzenstein,"  said  the  Duchess,  "  I  know 
you  want  to  write  letters ;  do  not  let  me  detain  you. 
You  see  I  have  the  best  of  society.  Draw  the  cur- 
tains, have  the  tea-table  removed  and  my  lounge 
placed  near  the  fire,  which  feels  comfortable,  although 
it  is  the  6th  of  June  by  the  almanac.  And,  dear 
Katzenstein,  have  lamps  put  on  the  piano. — You  will 
sing  a  little?"  she  asked,  turning  to  Claudine. 

"  If  your  Highness  commands " 

"  No,  I  beg.  But  let  us  have  a  chat  first." 
The  eager  young  creature  lying  upon  the  lounge 
exerted  all  her  charm  to  induce  her  silent  companion  to 
join  her  in  this  '  chat,'  but  the  girl  was  as  if  under  a 
spell.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  should  stifle  in  this 
artificially  heated  apartment,  where  from  every  corner, 
every  bit  of  carving,  old  memories  floated  towards  her. 
Here,  in  this  very  room,  she  and  Joachim  had  always, 
as  children,  had  their  Christmas-presents;  here  the 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  115 

pretty  ball  had  been  given  in  honour  of  her  eighteenth 
birthday;  here,  weeping  and  in  deep  mourning,  she 
had  received  her  brother  upon  his  return  home  with 
his  young  wife,  while  their  father's  body  lay  on  its  bier 
in  the  room  below.  Then  the  bow-window  had  been 
turned  into  a  garden ;  seats  had  been  placed  there 
among  blooming  pomegranates,  that  the  northern  cli- 
mate might  not  depress  the  young  wife ;  the  scarlet 
blossoms,  Claudine  had  thought,  would  be  like  a  greet- 
ing to  her  from  her  distant  fatherland,  but  they  had 
sufficed  only  to  fill  her  young  sister-in-law's  eyes  with 
tears.  "  Oh,  how  small  these  blossoms  are!  how  sickly 
they  look !"  she  had  wailed.  Ah,  it  had  been  a  hard 
time ! 

Claudine  came  back  to  the  present  as  if  from  a  dream, 
roused  by  the  voice  of  the  Duchess,  and  the  young 
girl's  look  was  so  sad  and  tearful  that  her  Highness 
ceased  speaking  and  timidly  clasped  her  friend's  hand 
in  her  own. 

"  Ah,  I  forgot  how  sad  it  must  make  you  to  see 
strange  people  in  your  old  home  !" 

It  sounded  so  kind,  so  gentle,  and  the  clasp  of  the 
hot,  little  hand  was  so  sincere,  that  Claudine  turned  her 
head  aside  to  conceal  the  tears  that  veiled  her  eyes. 

"  Cry,  dear ;  it  will  relieve  you,"  the  Duchess  said 
simply. 

Claudine  shook  her  head,  and  did  her  best  to  regain 
her  composure,  but  without  success.  What  a  medley 
of  emotions  surged  up  within  her!  and  then  this 
woman's  tenderness ! 

"  Pardon  me,  your  Highness,  pardon  me,"  she  said 
ut  last,  "  and  permit  me  to  withdraw.  I  am  conscious 
that  I  cannot  to-day  be  the  companion  whom  your 
Highness " 


116  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"No,  no,  my  dear  Claudine!  I  cannot  let  you  go  I 
Do  you  imagine  I  do  not  understand  you  ?  My  dear 
child,  I  too  have  been  crying  to-day."  And  the  tears 
flowed  fast  again  over  her  fever-flushed  cheeks.  "  I 
have  had  a  sad  day  to-day,"  she  went  on.  "  I  feel  so  ill 
that  I  caanot  but  think  continually  of  dying;  I  cannot 
help  dwelling  upon  the  terrible  family  vault  beneath 
the  chapel  of  the  castle  in  the  capital ;  and  then  I  think 
of  my  children,  and  of  the  Duke.  Why  should  one  so 
young  and  so  happy  as  I  am  have  such  thoughts? 
Just  look  at  me,  dearest  Claudine;  I  am  perfectly  happy 
but  for  my  illness.  I  have  a  husband  to  whom  I  am 
dear  beyond  measure,  and  such  lovely  children,  and  yet 
all  these  frightful  thoughts  will  not  leave  me.  I  am  so 
oppressed  for  breath  to-day." 

"It  is  the  close  atmosphere,  your  Highness,"  said 
the  young  girl,  deeply  moved. 

"  Yes,  of  course.  I  am  nervous ;  it  will  pass  away,  I 
know.  I  feel  better  since  you  came.  Come  as  often  as 
you  can.  I  will  confess  to  you,  dear  Claudine, — mamma 
knows  my  secret, — that  since  seeing  you  I  have  been 
longing  to  have  you  always  about  me.  But  mamma 
was  so  charmed  with  you  that  she  would  not  hear  of 
giving  you  up.  I  cannot  blame  her.  The  Duke  him- 
self begged  for  me,  but  she  refused  point-blank." 

Claudine  did  not  stir ;  her  eyes  were  downcast,  and 
for  an  instant  her  cheek  crimsoned. 

"  It  was  strange ;  dear  mamma  never  before  refused 
me  anything.  And  now,  dear  Claudine,  comes  my  re- 
quest. Stay  with  me,  at  least,  while  we  are  here." 

"  Impossible,  your  Highness  1"  Claudine  said  almost 
bluntly ;  and  then  in  a  tone  of  entreaty  she  added, 
"  My  brother,  your  Highness,  and  his  child !" 

"  Oh,  I  take  all  that  into  consideration ;    but  you 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  117 

must  contrive  to  give  me  a  couple  of  hours  every 
day,  Claudine, — only  a  couple  of  hours!  Give  me  your 
hand  upon  it.  Only  one  or  two  songs  now  and  then. 
You  cannot  think  how  your  singing  soothes  mel" 

The  poor  woman  leaned  her  feverish  face  forward 
close  to  Claudine's,  and  the  unnaturally  brilliant  eyes 
looked  beseechingly  into  the  young  girl's  own.  How 
touching  was  the  evidence  in  that  face  of  the  fading 
life!  Why  should  she  so  entreat? — and  for  what?  If 
she  could  dream — but  no,  she  must  not ! 

"Your  Highness "  Claudine  stammered. 

"No,  no,  I  will  not  be  put  off  so.  I  long  for  a 
friend,  and  I  could  not  find  one  nobler,  better,  or  truer 
than  you,  Claudine.  Why  do  you  let  me  entreat  you 
so?" 

"  Your  Highness "  the  girl  repeated,  overcome, 

and  bowing  over  the  hand  that  clasped  her  own.  But 
the  Duchess  lifted  up  her  face  and  kissed  her  brow. 

"  My  dear  friend  !"  she  said. 

"  Your  Highness !  for  the  love  of  heaven !"  Clau- 
dine whispered.  But  the  Duchess  did  not  hear  her: 
she  had  turned  her  head  towards  her  old  lady-in- 
waiting,  who  announced  in  an  undertone  that  the 
Duke  would  sup  with  the  gentlemen  in  the  room  next 
the  card-room,  and  asked  where  her  Highness  would 
take  her  supper. 

"Up  here  in  the  little  drawing-room,"  the  Duchess 
gave  orders,  with  a  glance  of  disappointment  towards 
Claudine.  "  I  had  so  looked  forward  to  this  evening. 
We  should  have  been  such  a  pleasant  partie  carree,  the 
Duke,  your  cousin,  and  we  two."  And  she  added,  as 
in  jest,  "Yes,  yes,  my  dear  Claudine,  we  poor  wives 
must  share  our  husbands'  hearts  with  various  other 
passions.  The  chase  and  ombre  have  cost  me  many 


118  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

a  tear;  but  happy  is  the  wife  who  has  nothing  graver 
to  cause  them." 

It  was  nine  o'clock  before  Claudine  was  permitted 
to  return  home.  As  she  descended  the  broad,  familiar 
staircase,  attended  by  the  Duchess's  maid,  a  lackey 
passed  her  with  a  couple  of  silver  champagne-coolers. 
She  knew  that  his  Highness  was  fond  of  cards,  with 
an  accompaniment  of  Heidsieck  and  cigarettes,  and  that 
he  sometimes  sat  at  the  card-table  until  dawn.  Thank 
heaven  that  he  was  so  occupied  this  evening !  Her 
light  foot-fall  was  inaudible  on  the  crimson-carpeted 
staircase.  At  the  hall  door  stood  her  father's  old  ser- 
vant, Friedrich  Kern,  now  in  the  ducal  livery,  his 
honest  face  beaming  with  delight.  She  nodded  to  him 
kindly,  and  hurried  out.  With  a  sigh  of  relief  she 
sank  back  among  the  silken  cushions  of  the  carriage ; 
she  had  been  as  frightened  as  a  child  lest  some  one 
might  meet  her  in  the  corridor, — some  one !  No,  thank 
God !  she  was  alone  in  the  ducal  vehicle,  which  was 
bearing  her  swiftly  towards  her  home,  her  own  dear 
home !  Never  before  had  she  so  yearned  for  the  simple 
little  rooms.  For  a  while  she  resigned  herself  to  such 
reflections;  then  suddenly  she  opened  the  window  and 
passed  her  hand  across  her  forehead ;  the  perfume  that 
lingered  in  the  cushions  of  the  carriage  aroused  pain- 
ful memories.  It  was  the  Duke's  favourite  perfume; 
the  sweet,  heavy  fragrance  hung  around  his  clothes, 
enveloping  him  as  in  a  cloud.  It  had  often  made 
her  dizzy  when  waltzing  with  his  Highness  at  balls. 
Nothing  else  in  the  world  brings  back  the  past  so 
vividly  as  an  odour. 

She  opened  the  other  window,  and  sat  in  the  draught 
caused  by  the  rapid  driving,  her  lips  compressed  and 
her  eyes  shining  through  tears.  In  spite  of  herself, 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  119 

she  had  been  compelled  to  cross  that  threshold.  "What 
had  her  flight  availed  her?  Nothing! — nothing  at  all  I 
Would  he  make  good  his  declaration  that  he  should  find 
her  out  everywhere  ? 

Her  thoughts  grew  confused  and  contradictory ;  she 
seemed  to  herself  untrue,  degraded.  Ought  she  not  to 
have  repelled  the  Duchess's  advance  as  bluntly  as  Beata 
had  done  ?  Ah,  Beata !  How  steadfast  and  true  was 
her  walk  through  life!  At  that  moment  the  lights 
in  the  windows  of  the  Neuhaus  mansion  shimmered 
through  the  linden  boughs;  a  sudden  yearning  for 
her  simple,  upright  cousin  possessed  her;  she  longed 
for  a  word  from  her,  to  learn  from  a  glance  from  those 
clear  eyes  whether  she  had  done  wrong.  She  pulled 
the  silken  cord  that  passed  around  the  coachman's 
arm,  and  ordered  him  to  drive  to  Neuhaus. 

Beata  was  just  passing  through  the  spacious  hall,  her 
bunch  of  jingling  keys  in  her  hand,  and  followed  by  a 
girl  carrying  a  bolt  of  linen  fresh  from  the  loom. 

"What!  is  it  you?"  she  called  in  her  loud  voice  that 
re-echoed  from  the  walls  of  the  hall.  "  Heavens  and 
earth !  where  have  you  come  from  this  evening  ?" 

Claudine  stood  beneath  the  waving  hanging-lamp, 
her  face  looking  white  as  marble  from  out  the  black 
lace  which  she  had  tied  around  it.  "  I  wanted  to  say 
good-night  to  you  in  passing,"  she  said. 

"  Come  in,  then.  Where  have  you  been  ?  At  Alten- 
stein,  I  suspect,  from  your  dress.  I  intended  to  pay 
you  a  visit  to-day,  but  when  I  had  nearly  reached  your 
house  I  met  Berg  with  the  child ;  and  guess  who  was 
in  the  carriage  with  her  ?  Herr  von  Palmer !  It  ex- 
cited my  curiosity,  so  I  beckoned  to  the  coachman, 
and  begged  permission  to  make  use  of  our  carriage  in 
the  threatening  weather.  Of  course  the  pair  were  de- 


120  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

lighted,  apparently.  Mark  what  I  say,  Claudine,  I 
don't  know  much  about  love-affairs,  they're  not  at  all 
in  my  line,  but  I'll  stake  my  life  that  will  be  a  match." 

Talking  thus,  she  had  conducted  her  cousin  into  the 
study,  and  seated  her  in  one  of  the  brown-covered  arm- 
chairs. "  But  tell  me,"  she  went  on  from  her  work- 
table  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  where  she  was 
looking  for  scissors,  needle,  and  thread,  "  have  you 
been  at  Altenstein?  And  is  that  the  ducal  carriage 
outside?  Yes?  Then,  my  dear  child,  we  will  send  it 
away.  Our  Lorenz  will  bo  delighted  to  drive  you  home." 
She  glanced  at  the  clock  on  the  wall  above  the  sofa, 
between  the  portraits  of  her  parents.  "  Five  minutes 
of  half-past  nine  ;  you  can  surely  stay  until  ten."  And 
in  an  instant  she  had  pulled  the  bell  beside  the  door, 
and  given  her  orders  to  the  maid-servant  who  appeared. 

"Did  you  not  see  Lothar?"  she  asked.  "  The  Duke's 
huntsman  was  here  to  summon  him  to  Altenstein. 
They  sent  for  you,  too  ?" 

Claudine  nodded. 

"Your  expression  of  countenance  is  very  edifying, 
my  dear,"  said  Beata,  laughing,  as  she  seated  herself  at 
her  sewing. 

"  I  am  not  very  well ;  I  would  rather  have  stayed  at 
home." 

"  Why  did  you  not  say  so  frankly  ?" 

Claudine  blushed.  "  I  thought  I  ought  not  to ;  the 
Duchess  wrote  so  kindly." 

"You  are  right,  my  dear  Claudine;  you  could  hardly 
have  refused,"  Beata  rejoined,  waxing  the  thread  with 
which  she  was  sewing  on  a  loop  which  had  been  torn 
off  a  coarse  kitchen  towel.  "  They  have  always  been 
so  kind  to  you,  and  the  little  Duchess,  in  spite  of  her 
sentimentality,  is  a  true-hearted  woman,— and  so  ill. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  121 

It  really  would  be  disobliging  if  you  refused  to  make 
some  slight  sacrifice  for  her  sake.  If  you  are  afraid 
lest  your  household  should  suffer  from  your  absence 
now  and  then,  I  can  assure  you,  my  child,  that  I  will 
see  to  all  that." 

As  she  finished  she  rose  and  went  to  her  work-table 
again,  as  if  she  did  not  wish  to  look  at  Claudine. 

"You  are  so  kind,"  the  girl  murmured.  Even  the 
pretext  that  her  home  duties  might  have  afforded  was 
taken  from  her.  Everything  seemed  to  combine  against 
her. 

"  But  you  have  not  told  me  yet  whether  Lothar  was 
in  Altenstein,"  Beata  asked,  resuming  her  seat. 

"  Yes;  he  is  playing  ombre  with  his  Highness." 

"Oh,  gracious,  they'll  play  forever!  "Who  made  up 
the  game?" 

"Probably  the  adjutant  or  the  chamberlain  and — 
some  one  else, — Palmer,  perhaps." 

"Oh — he!  of  course!  He  said  he  was  in  a  hurry 
when  he  took  leave  of  me  in  the  carriage.  I  offered  to 
drive  to  Altenstein,  but  he  thanked  me  and  declined; 
said  he  had  only  been  picked  up  as  he  was  taking  a 
walk, — in  this  rain,  Claudine.  He  preferred  walking. 
I  said,  '  Very  well,'  and  let  him  go ;  but  1  was  amused 
at  the  worthy  Berg's  expression  of  countenance  when 
I  dropped  from  the  skies  into  the  carriage ;  the  milk- 
bottle  that  she  held  might  have  been  a  bowl  of  hem- 
lock. The  nurse  told  me  afterwards  that  they  often 
met  Herr  Palmer  'by  accident'  in  their  drives,  and 
that  then  he  and  Frau  Berg  spoke  'Italian,' — she 
meant  French, — which  she  could  not  understand.  But, 
good  heavens,  there  comes  Lothar!  See  the  dog." 

The  beautiful  spaniel  had  risen,  and  was  standing, 
wagging  his  tail,  at  the  door  of  the  room.  There  was 
F  11 


122  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

a  light,  elastic  step  outside,  and  presently  the  Baron 
entered.  He  looked  amazed  for  an  instant  upon  see- 
ing Claudine,  who  had  risen  to  her  feet  and  was  tying 
her  black  lace  veil  over  her  head. 

"Ah,  my  gracious  cousin,"  he  said,  bowing.  "And 
I  thought  you  still  at  Altenstein.  His  Highness  broke 
up  the  card-party  so  suddenly  that  I  supposed  you 
were  going  to  spend  a  social  evening  with  the  Duchess 
His  Highness  had  very  bad  luck  at  cards  to-night,"  he 
went  on ;  "  but  he  apparently  took  it  as  a  good  sign  ; 
he  is  superstitious,  like  all  great  intellects.  At  all 
events,  he  called  me  'cousin'  to-night  with  extreme 
urbanity,  and  he  never  does  so  unless  the  barometer 
Btands  very  high." 

As  he  spoke  he  laid  aside  his  hat  and  was  taking  off 
his  gloves.  "  Give  me  a  drink  of  cool,  honest  beer, 
sister,"  he  said,  changing  his  tone.  "  I  detest  sweet 
French  champagne  and  those  strong  cigarettes.  But 
are  you  going  already,  cousin  ?" 

"  Stay  awhile,"  said  Beata ;  and  then  turning  to 
Lothar,  she  added,  "  She  is  not  very  well,  but  since  the 
Duchess  sent  her  carriage  for  her,  she  could  not  help 
driving  over." 

Herr  von  Gerold  smiled,  and  took  the  foaming  glass 
which  a  servant  had  brought.  "  Of  course  not,"  he 
said,  and  drank. 

Claudine,  who  had  been  standing  putting  on  her 
wrap,  saw  his  smile,  and  turned  very  pale.  She  walked 
haughtily  towards  him.  "  Of  course  not,"  she  repeated, 
and  her  lip  quivered.  "  I  could  not  but  obey  her  High- 
ness's  summons.  I  went  to  her  to-day,  and  I  shall  go 
again  to-morrow,  and  the  day  after  to-morrow,  and 
every  day  when  she  summons  me  to  her  presence.  I 
know  I  act  as  Joachim  would  approve,  in  helping  an 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  123 

invalid  to  forget  her  sufferings  for  an  hour,  whether 
she  be  a  duchess  or  the  poor  woman  who  does  day- 
labourer's  service  in  our  garden." 

She  paused,  but  she  looked  as  if  she  were  putting  a 
restraint  upon  herself  not  to  proceed. 

"Pray  order  the  carriage,  Beata,"  she  said;  "it  is 
high  time  I  were  at  home." 

The  smile  had  vanished  from  the  Baron's  face  for  a 
moment,  but  it  hovered  upon  his  lips  again  as  he  bowed 
low  in  assent.  "  Permit  me  to  accompany  you,"  he 
said,  taking  up  his  hat. 

"  Thank  you,  I  had  rather  be  alone." 

"  I  regret  that  you  should  be  forced  to  endure  my 
society  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  longer,  but  I  cannot 
allow  you  to  drive  alone." 

She  threw  her  arm  round  Beata  and  kissed  her. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  the  latter  asked.  "  You  are 
trembling." 

"  Oh,  nothing,  Beata." 

"  You  must  let  me  know  when  you  are  called  away 
from  home,  Claudine,  and  I  will  come  and  get  tho 
child." 

Again  she  was  driving  through  the  silent  forest. 
She  leaned  back  in  the  corner  of  the  carriage,  her 
skirts  gathered  close  about  her  and  her  hand  firmly 
grasping  their  folds,  as  if  it  soothed  her  in  her  indig- 
nation to  crush  something  together.  Beside  her  sat 
Lothar ;  a  ray  from  the  carriage-lantern  fell  upon  his 
hand,  on  which  glistened  the  broad,  gold  marriage 
circlet ;  the  hand  lay  motionless,  as  if  its  owner  were 
sleeping.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  in  the  comfortable 
silken-cushioned  little  room  which  sheltered  two  people 
from  the  rain  and  all  terrors  of  the  night.  A  tempest 
of  indignation  and  distress  was  raging  in  the  girl's 


124  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

heart.  What  did  this  man  think  of  her?  what  was 
she  in  his  eyes  ? 

She  could  not  pursue  the  train  of  thought ;  her  own 
words  dismayed  her:  'And  I  shall  go  again  to-mor- 
row, and  the  day  after  to-morrow,  and  every  day.' 

The  die  was  cast ;  she  would  do  as  she  had  said,  and 
what  she  did  was  right. 

She  leaned  forward.  Thank  heaven  !  there  gleamed 
the  light  from  Joachim's  window.  The  carriage  stopped, 
and  the  door  was  opened.  Baron  Gerold  sprang  out  and 
offered  her  his  hand  to  assist  her  to  alight.  She  made 
as  though  she  did  not  perceive  it,  and  passed  through 
the  gate  with  a  haughty  inclination  of  her  head.  As 
she  glanced  towards  him  she  thought  she  saw  by  the 
light  of  the  lantern,  held  high  by  old  Heinemann,  that 
he  was  looking  after  her  with  an  anxious  expression. 
Pshaw !  Lothar  anxious,  and  anxious  about  her ! 

She  reached  the  house  breathless,  hearing  behind  her 
the  rolling  of  the  wheels  that  bore  him  back  to  Neuhaus. 

"  They  are  all  asleep,"  whispered  the  old  man,  as  he 
lighted  his  mistress  up  the  steps  ;  "  the  master  only  is 
still  at  work.  The  little  one  played  in  Fraulein  Lin- 
denmeyer's  room,  and  then  we  had  strawberries  and 
milk,  and  everything  went  on  delightfully." 

She  nodded  to  him  with  a  pale,  serious  face,  and 
closed  the  door  of  her  little  room  behind  her.  Then 
she  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  clasped  her  hands  over 
her  eyes,  and  sat  for  a  long  time  lost  in  thought.  "  He 
is  no  better  than  the  rest,"  she  said  to  herself  at  last, 
as  she  began  to  make  ready  to  go  to  bed  ;  "  even  he  no 
longer  believes  in  feminine  purity,  in  feminine  honour!" 

What  had  her  flight  availed  her?  Did  not  he — be, 
of  all  men — believe  the  worst  of  her?  His  smile,  his 
words,  this  very  evening,  would  have  convinced  h<»r 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  125 

of  it,  even  had  she  not  long  known  it.  Oh,  the  whole 
world  might  think  of  her  what  it  chose,  if  only  her 
heart,  her  conscience,  acquitted  her.  She  would  see  to 
it  that  she  had  no  cause  for  hanging  her  head. 

She  compressed  her  lips.  Yes,  she  would  show  him 
that  a  Gerold  could  walk  along  the  dimmest,  muddiest 
paths  without  even  soiling  the  sole  of  her  shoe.  She 
looked  towards  where  she  knew  the  star  shone  be- 
tween the  stag's  horns ;  its  lustre  should  never  be 
dimmed  on  her  account. 

She  rose,  lit  a  candle,  and  looked  around  her.  What 
a  sight !  Everywhere  in  the  apartment,  usually  so 
neat  and  pretty,  were  visible  the  traces  of  her  disor- 
dered thoughts :  the  wardrobe  door  was  wide  open,  on 
the  dressing-table  lay  sashes,  gloves,  pins,  combs,  all  in 
confusion  ;  various  gowns  encumbered  the  bed  and  the 
chairs ;  everything  mirrored  the  period  of  indecision 
through  which  she  had  passed  before  she  drove  to 
Altenstein.  She  had  taken  the  articles  from  drawers 
and  closets  aimlessly,  and  had  then  dropped  them  here 
and  there.  She  would  not — no,  she  would  not  go, 
and  yet  she  had  not  the  courage  to  excuse  herself  by 
a  falsehood.  Outside,  the  ducal  horses  had  stamped 
impatiently;  one  quarter  of  an  hour  after  another 
had  passed,  until  at  last  Joachim  had  appeared:  "But, 
sister,  are  you  not  ready  yet  ?" 

Then  she  went. 

She  began  to  restore  order  to  her  room,  and  gave  a 
sigh  of  relief  when  it  again  reigned  around  her.  Yes, 
everything  was  settled  now.  She  herself  had  decided 
in  a  moment  of  anger,  of  bitter  anguish.  But  had  she 
decided  rightly  ? 


11* 


126  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Frauvon  Berg  was  seated  at  her  writing-table  in  her 
room  at  Neuhaus.  The  door  leading  into  the  adjoining 
apartment  was  open ;  it  was  occupied  by  the  child  with 
her  nurse.  The  rain  was  dropping  outside  and  weigh- 
ing down  the  wet  linden  boughs  ;  the  lady  was  writing, 
wrapped  in  a  thick  woollen  shawl.  She  must  have  been 
somewhat  agitated  in  mind,  for  her  pen  flew  over  the 
thick,  cream-laid  paper,  and  the  letters  were  excessively 
small  and  flowing, — a  peculiar  handwriting,  reminding 
one  of  delicate  little  cat's-paws. 

The  writer  was  in  an  extremely  bad  humour,  and 
when  Beata's  loud  voice  was  heard  from  the  hall  below 
she  clinched  her  hand  and  glanced  angrily  towards 
the  door.  Who  could  guard  against  that  domestic 
dragon's  insisting,  by  virtue  of  her  office,  upon  coming 
in  here  to  see  that  everything  was  in  order? — just 
as  yesterday,  by  virtue  of  her  authority,  she  had  in- 
truded in  the  carriage  and  had  spoiled  a  cosey  hour 
of  chat.  And  the  worst  of  it  was  that  one  was  so 
powerless  here.  The  Herr  Baron  had  hardly  any  eyes 
for  his  little  daughter;  they  were  employed  elsewhere, 
as  she  knew  very  well.  Had  he  not  escorted  her  back 
to  the  Owl's  Nest  yesterday  evening  through  the  night 
and  rain  ? 

She  looked  out  of  the  window,  nodded  as  if  some- 
thing especial  had  occurred  to  her,  and  then  wrote  on : 

"Yesterday  in  my  weekly  bulletin  to  Princess  Thekla 
with  regard  to  her  grandchild's  health,  I  added  various 
hints,  which,  after  all  of  which  I  informed  you,  must 
certainly  have  thrown  the  Princess  Helena  into  one 
of  her  fits  of  rage.  It  is  almost  incredible,  that  young 
lady's  capacity  for  jealousy,  of  which  I  have  often 
told  you. 

"  Moreover,  my  dear  Palmer,  yesterday  evening  as  I 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  127 

"was  passing  the  study,  on  my  way  from  the  ironing- 
room,  where  I  had  had  a  dispute  with  a  housemaid, — you 
have  no  idea  of  the  vexations  one  must  encounter  in  this 
model  household  in  having  a  little  extra  work  done, — 
I  heard,  in  passing,  the  little  goose — ci-devant  swan — 
declare  to  her  faithful  adorer  that  she  meant  to  go  to 
Altenstein  every  day.  Thus  far  your  prophecy,  you 
see,  has  been  verified.  How  did  you  put  it? — 'There 
is  no  surer  means  of  depriving  a  timid  lover  of  the 
last  vestige  of  common  sense  than  to  play  a  little  hide- 
and-seek  with  him.'  I  never  should  have  thought  it! 
To  be  sure,  you  say,  the  Duke's  ardour  has  cooled, — 
tant  mieux !  Permit  me,  by  the  way,  to  have  some 
slight  doubt  as  to  this  last.  I  think  I  know  his  Serene 
Highness  better. 

"  To-morrow  I  hope  to  see  you.  Mademoiselle  Beata 
has  instituted  a  grand  cleaning.  On  these  occasions  she 
covers  her  head  with  a  white  handkerchief  and  dusts 
the  portraits  of  her  ancestors  with  a  long  feather 
duster.  High  festival  is  held :  there  are  potato-dump- 
lings with  baked  fruit  for  dinner.  Oh,  we  lead  an 
idyllic  life  here !  I  cannot  stand  it,  my  dear  Palmer, 
much  longer,  I  can  assure  you.  Arrange  that  the 
stay  at  Altenstein  shall  be  short,  then  my  captivity 
will  come  to  an  end.  Find  cholera-bacilli  in  the  spring- 
water,  or  turn  loose  a  few  dozen  rats  and  mice  in 
their  Highnesses'  rooms,  or  let  the  ghost  of  the  late 
colonel  or  of  the  fair  Spaniard  '  walk,'  or  contrive  a 
stroke  of  lightning;  I  don't  care  what,  if  it  only  drives 
away  the  inmates  of  Altenstein  and  lets  me  once  more 
behold  the  roofs  of  the  capital.  I  cannot  breathe  in 
this  cow-stable." 

Here  she  broke  off  and  turned  her  head  towards  the 
next  room,  whence  a  child's  cries  were  audible.  An 


128  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

expression  of  irritation  appeared  on  the  listener's  full 

white  face.  "  Oh,  heavens,  I  wish  I "  she  muttered 

and  arose. 

"  Frau  von  Berg,  the  child  is  very  restless,"  said  the 
nurse. 

"  Give  her  some  milk,  then ;  good  heavens,  it  must  be 
hungry.  What  else  can  ail  her  ?" 

"  It  will  not  take  anything,  madame." 

"  Then  take  the  child  out ;  it  must  be  quiet." 

"I  dare  not  take  the  little  thing  out  while  it  has 
the  wet  compress  on  its  chest ;  the  doctor  particularly 
forbade " 

Frau  von  Berg  threw  down  her  pen  and  rustled 
into  the  next  room. 

"Hushl  Be  quiet!"  she  called  in  her  harshest  voice, 
clapping  her  hands  as  she  approached  the  bed. 

There  was  such  an  angry  threat  in  her  eyes  that  the 
child  stopped  crying  for  a  minute,  only  to  begin  again 
louder  than  ever  after  the  pause.  There  was  something 
so  piteous,  so  suffering,  in  the  cry,  that  the  nurse  left 
the  table  where  she  had  been  preparing  the  child's 
food,  and  hurried  to  the  bedside,  while  footsteps  were 
suddenly  heard  in  the  corridor,  and  the  next  moment 
Baron  Gerold  appeared. 

"Is  Leonie  ill?"  was  his  first  question,  while  his 
eyes  sought  the  little  creature,  who,  as  she  lay  in  bed, 
stretched  out  her  arms  to  him  and  ceased  crying. 

Frau  von  Berg  was  confused,  but  she  kept  her  place 
at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  "No,"  she  replied;  "only 
hungry  and  wayward." 

"  But  that  was  not  the  cry  of  a  wayward  child," 
he  said,  curtly  and  decidedly. 

"  It  is  possible  that  she  does  not  feel  very  well,"  the 
stately  woman  declared.  "  I  have  thought  for  some 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  129 

time  that  the  air  here  is  too  bracing  for  the  little 
thing.  Imagine  what  the  transition  must  be  from  the 
soft,  warm  atmosphere  of  the  Riviera  to  this  cool, 
sharp  mountain  air," 

He  looked  at  her  gravely.  "Do  you  think  so?"  he 
asked.  His  tone  brought  the  blood  to  her  cheeks ;  she 
dreaded  the  Baron's  sarcasm.  "  I  regret,"  he  continued, 
with  composure,  "that  the  poor  child  should  have  been 
ordered  directly  to  this  cool,  sharp  mountain  air  by  the 
first  physician  of  Nice.  Unfortunately,  it  must  become 
accustomed  to  it,  Nice  being  entirely  out  of  the  ques- 
tion at  present,  since  its  father  is  forced  to  stay  here. 
Besides,  my  dear  Frau  von  Berg,  '  the  cool,  sharp  air' 
seems  to  me  to  have  been  beneficial  already;  yester- 
day I  saw  the  child  creep  quickly  from  one  end  of  the 
room  to  the  other,  and  rise  to  its  feet  by  that  chair 
without  assistance." 

Frau  von  Berg  shrugged  her  shoulders  slightly. 
"  What  is  that  for  a  child  two  years  old  ?"  she  said. 

"Be  logical,  madame;  the  question  is  not  of  the 
child's  age,  but  of  its  improvement  in  health.  I  should 
like  to  tell  you  of  something  which  will  probably  in- 
terest you.  Her  Highness  the  Princess  Thekla,  with 
the  Princess  Helena,  is  shortly  coming  to  Neubaus 
for  a  few  weeks,  to  convince  herself  personally  of  her 
grandchild's  welfare.  Where  could  her  Highness  have 
learned  that  the  Reitenbach  physician  is  at  present 
attending  my  child.  Have  you  any  idea?" 

Frau  von  Berg  changed  colour,  but  made  no  reply, 
merely  shrugging  her  shoulders  again. 

"  I  never  mentioned  it  in  my  letters  to  her  High- 
ness," he  continued,  walking  towards  the  window.  "I 
dislike  all  intermeddling  in  the  arrangements  which  I 
make.  The  Princess  Thekla  is  a  homoeopath,  and  has 


130  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

her  pocket  filled  with  pellets.  Have  you  really  no  idea, 
Frau  von  Berg?" 

She  shook  her  head.     "  None." 

He  scarcely  seemed  to  heed  her ;  he  stood  motion- 
less at  the  window,  gazing  out  at  the  road  which 
traversed  the  forest  opposite,  like  a  white,  shining 
band.  Along  it  the  ducal  vehicle  was  driving  rapidly ; 
for  a  moment  a  pale  face  appeared  behind  the  glass 
of  its  window,  and  then  the  equipage  disappeared, — 
Claudine  was  driving  to  Altenstein. 

When  he  turned  round  he  looked  strangely  pale.  Frau 
von  Berg  watched  him  with  a  malicious  smile  hovering 
about  the  corners  of  her  mouth ;  she,  too,  had  seen  the 
carriage.  He  did  not  notice  her  smile,  but,  approaching 
the  bed,  where  his  child  now  lay  asleep,  he  gazed  down 
at  the  frail  little  creature  for  a  long  time. 

Frau  von  Berg  softly  withdrew  to  the  next  room.  As 
he  stood  by  the  bed,  a  hard,  bitter  expression  gathered 
about  his  lips.  The  old  nurse  looked  at  him  from  behind 
the  blue  bed-curtains.  Could  the  Herr  Baron  dislike  the 
poor  little  thing  because  it  had  cost  his  idolized  wife 
her  life  when  it  was  born  ?  Yes,  yes,  that  was  often 
the  case  1  Poor  thing!  such  an  innocent  little  creature, 
and  yet  condemned  to  be  looked  at  so  reproachfully 
always.  Poor  thing  I 

Suddenly  the  man  at  the  bedside  turned  away  and 
hastily  left  the  room.  The  old  woman  stooped  and 
held  her  hands  above  the  sleeping  child  as  if  to  shield 
it;  she  was  sure  the  door  would  close  with  a  crash 
behind  him,  he  looked  so  desperate.  Thank  heaven, 
although  it  was  closed  hurriedly  and  firmly,  the  child 
did  not  wake. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  131 

Yes,  Claudine  was  driving  to  Altenstein.  She  was 
sitting  in  the  carriage  with  the  calm,  proud  expression 
of  countenance  now  usual  with  her.  She  had  attended 
betimes  to  her  housekeeping,  and  after  the  mid-day 
meal  had  changed  her  Cinderella  costume  for  the  taste- 
ful toilette  of  soft  dark-blue  silk  which  the  modiste  had 
sent  her  home  a  few  days  before  she  had  resigned  her 
post  at  court.  She  had  not  donned  it  from  vanity ;  she 
was  forced  to  dress  thus,  for  her  Highness  had  declared 
yesterday  in  the  course  of  conversation  that  she  disliked 
black  clothes. 

When  Claudine  entered  the  tower-room  to  take  leave 
of  her  brother,  he  gazed  at  her  in  surprise. 

"How  beautiful  you  look!"  he  said  proudly,  kissing 
her  brow. 

She  looked  at  him  confused  and  anxious.  "  I  have  no 
other  gown,  Joachim,  and  in  this  cloudy  weather " 

"I  am  not  finding  fault  with  it,"  he  rejoined, 
pleasantly.  "  I  was  only  admiring  the  effect  of  your 
fair  hair  set  off  by  the  deep  blue.  Good-bye,  my  little 
sister.  You  can  go  without  an  anxiety ;  Elizabeth  is 
happy  with  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer,  and  I  am  writing. 
What  are  you  waiting  for,  my  darling?  Are  you 
troubled  about  anything  ?" 

She  approached  him  hesitatingly,  and  her  lips  moved 
slightly,  as  though  she  would  have  spoken.  Then  she 
turned  hastily,  murmured  an  '  Adieu,'  and  went.  She 
could  not  submit  the  question  in  her  mind  to  him,  the 
dreamer,  with  his  gentle  spirit,  for  decision.  The  only 
right  way  was  to  act  for  herself.  And  so  she  got  into 
the  carriage  with  the  uncomfortable  sensation  that 
must  assail  a  noble  nature  when  all  about  it  is  not 
clear  and  transparent,  and  yet  with  the  firm  resolve 
to  find  of  herself  a  way  out  of  her  present  perplexity. 


132  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

But  what  in  the  world  should  she  do  next  ?  The 
Duchess  called  her — she  must  obey  her  summons. 
Unless  she  were  really  ill,  she  had  no  possible  reason 
for  refusing;  a  falsehood  she  would  not  tell,  and  the 
truth  could  not  be  told.  And,  after  all,  was  she  not 
safest  in  the  society  of  the  Duchess?  None  of  the 
ardent,  entreating  glances  which  she  feared  could  be 
cast  towards  her  in  the  wife's  boudoir ;  in  the  presence 
of  that  loving  and  lovable  creature  every  wild  wish 
must  be  suppressed.  She  pressed  her  lace  handker- 
chief to  her  throbbing  temples,  as  if  she  could  thus 
deaden  the  pain  which  had  raged  there  all  day  long. 

The  pointed  gables  of  Altenstein  were  just  visible 
among  the  tree-tops,  and,  for  the  first  time  after  long, 
dreary  days  of  rain,  a  golden  gleam  of  sunshine  broke 
through  the  clouds  and  sparkled  on  the  gilded  top  of 
the  tower,  as  if  her  old  home  were  extending  her  a 
welcome. 

"  Her  Highness  has  been  expecting  you  with  im- 
patience," old  Frau  von  Katzenstein  whispered  to  her 
in  the  antechamber.  "  Her  Highness  wishes  to  hear 
you  sing  a  new  song  of  Brahm's,  and  has  been  prac- 
tising the  accompaniment  for  two  hours  this  morning. 
She  is  terribly  nervous  and  excited,  dearest  Gerold ; 
there  has  been  a  little  dispute  with  his  Highness." 

The  young  girl  looked  inquiringly  into  the  old  lady's 
face. 

"  Entre  nous,  dearest  Gerold,"  the  latter  whispered, 
"  her  Highness  wanted  the  Duke  to  take  tea  with  her 
this  afternoon,  and  he  refused  so  decidedly  as  to  be 
almost  unkind.  'We  are  to  have  some  music,'  her 
Highness  said  timidly ;  '  and  I  thought,  dear,  that  you 
took  such  an  interest  in  singing  ?  I  believe  you  never 
missed  one  of  mamma's  musical  evenings  ?'  His  High- 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  133 

ness  replied,  'True,  true,  my  dear;  but — just  now  I 
have  sent  for  Palmer  to  consult  with  him;  and,  since 
the  weather  is  brighter,  I  must  go  to  Meerfeld  this  even- 
ing ;  you  know  the  physician  insists  upon  my  being  as 
much  as  possible  in  the  open  air.'  " 

Claudine  rolled  up  her  sheet  of  music;  she  had 
changed  colour,  and,  painfully  affected  by  all  this,  she 
asked,  "Will  you  not  conduct  me  to  her  Highness?" 

"  In  a  moment,  dearest  Gerold ;  only  let  me  tell  you 
this:  the  Duchess  turned  away  from  him,  saying  un- 
der her  breath,  '  You  do  not  want  to  come,  Adalbert  1' 
And  then  he  left  her  without  replying,  and  she  burst 
into  tears." 

The  Duchess  was  seated  at  her  writing-table  when 
Claudine  entered,  and  she  held  out  her  hand  to  her 
visitor.  "It  is  as  if  the  sunshine  just  breaking  forth 
outside  had  come  into  my  room  with  you,  dear  Clau- 
dine," she  said  kindly  in  her  weary,  husky  voice.  "  You 
cannot  think  how  lonely  one  gets  sometimes  even  with 
those  who  should  be — who  are — everything  to  us.  I 
got  out  my  diary  in  my  restlessness,  and  I  have  been 
looking  through  it,  and  it  has  done  me  good.  I  have 
had  much,  very  much  happiness,  and  that  consoles 
me,  and  makes  me  grateful.  Sit  down.  Are  those  the 
songs  I  was  speaking  of?"  She  took  the  sheets  and 
turned  them  over.  "  Yes,  these  are  they.  '  Faithful 
Love' — you  must  sing  that  one  to  me  after  a  while, 
dear;  now  I  must  beg  you  to  take  a  little  walk  with 
me.  I  long  so  for  fresh  air,  and,  thank  heaven  I  the 
sky  is  clearing." 

When  the  ladies  returned  at  the  end  of  an  hour, 
they  had  tea,  and  then  Cluudine  went  to  the  piano. 
The  Duchess  lay  back  in  her  reclining-chair  and 
listened ;  old  Frau  von  Katzenstein  sat  at  the  window 

12 


134  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

behind  her  mistress,  and  watched  her  every   move- 
ment. 

Claudine's  fine,  rich  contralto  floated  through  the 
room,  which  the  twilight  had  already  invaded;  the 
notes  were  before  her,  but  she  did  not  need  them. 
Song  followed  song ;  she  sang  with  a  melancholy  en- 
joyment; the  costly  grand  piano  was,  oddly  enough, 
placed  in  the  same  spot  in  the  same  room  where  her 
own  instrument  had  stood  formerly.  The  memory 
of  the  full,  frank  happiness  of  her  youth  awoke  within 
her  in  this  apartment;  she  hardly  knew  how  it  was 
that  she  found  herself  singing  Joachim's  favourite 
song,— 

"  From  youth's  time  of  bliss,  from  youth's  time  of  bliss, 

Sounds  a  song,  a  song  divine. 
How  long  past  it  is,  how  long  past  it  is, 
What  once,  what  once  was  mine!" 

She  sang  the  simple,  pathetic  air  with  intense  feel- 
ing, but  in  the  midst  of  the  last  line  her  voice  failed  as 
if  broken,  and  after  a  couple  of  false  chords,  which 
her  hand  struck  mechanically,  she  was  silent. 

A  gentle  voice  was  heard  saying,  "  I  knew  you  would 
come,  Adalbert." 

Claudine  had  risen,  and  stood  gazing  at  the  tall  figure 
just  bending  to  kiss  his  wife's  hand.  She  courtesied, 
and  grasped  the  back  of  her  chair  as  if  needing  support. 

"  Pray  go  on  singing,  Fraulein  von  Gerold,"  said  the 
Duke ;  "  it  is  a  long  time  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
listening  to  you." 

He  sat  in  deep  shadow  beside  his  wife's  chair.  Clau- 
dine knew  that  the  last  rays  of  crimson  from  the  west 
were  falling  full  upon  her  own  figure,  and  the  knowl- 
edge confused  her  still  more.  She  tried  to  regain  her 


THE  OWL'S  WEST.  135 

composure,  but  when  she  sat  down  at  the  piano  her 
voice  sounded  veiled  and  weak, — a  spasm  seemed  to  close 
her  throat.  She  stammered  an  excuse  and  rose. 

"  How  strange  1"  said  the  Duchess.  "  Have  you  ever 
felt  it  before,  dearest  Claudine?" 

"  Never,  your  Highness,"  the  girl  stammered,  with 
absolute  truth. 

"  There  are  such  nervous  affections,"  the  Duke  ob- 
served ;  "  perhaps  you  have  exacted  too  much  already 
of  Fraulein  von  Gerold." 

"  Oh,  that  may  be  I  Forgive  me,  dear  Claudine,  and 
take  some  rest,"  the  Duchess  exclaimed,  evidently  dis- 
tressed. She  beckoned  to  the  young  girl  to  come  and 
sit  beside  her  on  the  low  chair  which  the  Duke  had 
just  left  to  pace  the  room  to  and  fro  with  an  almost 
inaudible  tread. 

"  Sit  so  that  I  can  see  your  face,"  she  said.  "  Indeed, 
you  look  quite  ill;  but  your  colour  is  returning.  Good 
heavens,  I  believe  you  took  fright  at  the  Duke's  sudden 
entrance. — Adalbert!"  she  laughed,  and  tried  to  turn 
her  head  towards  where  he  was  now  standing  behind 
her  chair,  "  it  is  your  fault  that  she  had  to  stop.  Oh, 
you  wretched  man,  what  mischief  you  do!" 

Involuntarily  Claudine  had  raised  her  eyes  to  the 
Duke,  thus  addressed,  only  to  avert  them  the  next  in- 
stant in  mortal  terror.  There  it  was  again,  that  ardent 
glance  of  entreaty !  Above  his  wife's  head  it  encoun- 
tered her  own,  while  his  voice  sounded  perfectly  calm  : 
"  I  should  be  sorry  to  think  so,  Fraulein  von  Gerold, 
and  I  really  cannot  imagine  how  my  appearance  here 
should  seem  startling  or  extraordinary.  I " 

"  Certainly  not,  your  Highness,"  Claudine  replied, 
sitting  erect.  "  I  was  tired  at  the  moment,  and  had  a 
little  headache ;  it  is  almost  gone  now." 


136  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"So  much  the  better!"  said  the  Duchess;  "and  now 
let  us  talk. — You  are  so  silent,  Adalbert.  How  came  you 
to  give  up  your  expedition  ?  Tell  us !  Was  it  really 
only  because  you  wanted  to  spend  this  evening  with 
me?"  And  as  he  passed  her  lounge  in  pacing  the  room 
again  she  followed  him  with  happy  eyes,  and  went  on 
without  waiting  for  an  answer:  "Only  fancy,  Adal- 
bert, your  eldest  son  has  composed  a  poem, — his  first 
verses;  his  tutor  brought  it  to  me  to-day;  he  had 
found  it  between  the  leaves  of  the  boy's  Latin  exercise 
book.  Do  you  not  want  to  read  it  ? — Dearest  Claudine, 
there  it  is  on  my  writing-table,  under  the  paper-weight, 
— no,  under  the  statuette  of  the  Duke.  Thank  you ; 
will  you  not  read  it  aloud  to  us  ?  It  is  expressed  in 
childlike  fashion,  but  it  shows  such  earnest  feeling." 

Claudine  took  the  paper,  and,  going  to  the  window, 
read  by  the  fading  daylight  the  large,  childish  char- 
acters,— 

"  When  I  to  manhood  shall  attain, 
There  is  a  word  I'll  live  by  ever ; 

Within  my  heart  I'll  write  it  plain. 
And  thence  it  shall  be  banished  never. 

True  is  this  word :  true  will  I  be, 

True  to  my  people  and  my  God ; 

True  to  my  friends  eternally, 

True  to  myself,  to  duty  true, 

And  true  to  truth  I  will  be  too." 

Claudine  could  not  see  the  Duchess's  face,  but  she 
saw  her  stretch  out  her  hand  to  her  husband  and  heard 
her  tremulous  whisper,  "Your  son,  Adalbert  1"  then 
aloud,  "Is  it  not  delightful?" 

The  Duke  had  paused  in  his  walk  to  and  fro.  "  Yes, 
Liesel,  it  is  delightful.  God  so  guide  him  that  he  may 
never  find  it  hard  to  keep  true !" 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  137 

"That  never  can  be  hard,  Adalbert, — never!" 

"  Never  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Never !     What  do  you  say,  Claudine  ?" 

"  There  may  be  cases,"  the  girl  began,  "  when  it  costs 
a  hard  struggle  to  keep  true." 

"  But  such  truth  would  not  satisfy  love,"  the  Duchess 
interposed,  and  her  cheeks  flushed.  "  It  would  only 
be  an  artificial  truth." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Duke,  in  an  undertone.  The  mono- 
syllable had  a  strange  intonation. 

"  It  would  not  be  truth,  it  would  be  a  sense  of  duty," 
the  Duchess  declared,  eagerly. 

"  Truth  to  duty  ;  that  is  perhaps  the  highest  grade 
of  truth,  your  Highness,"  said  Claudine,  gently. 

"Ah,  that  is  hair-splitting,  my  dear  child,"  the 
Duchess  interposed  again.  "  Truth  that  costs  a  strug- 
gle has  lost  its  value.  If,  for  example, — sans  comparai- 
son, — if  the  Duke," — she  hesitated  a  moment,  and  an 
arch  smile  flitted  across  her  face, — "  if  he  should  some- 
times— once,  we  will  say — allow  his  thoughts  to  dwell 
fondly  upon  you,  Claudine,  his  conjugal  truth  would 
be  valueless,  even  though  he  were  actually  the  most 
dutiful  of  husbands. — Do  you  hear,  Adalbert?  In  my 
opinion  you  would  be  untrue." 

The  Duke  had  turned  away,  and  was  gazing  out 
of  the  window.  Claudine  looked  positively  horrified. 
The  Duchess  did  not  notice  it ;  the  idea  was  so  divert- 
ing that  she  laughed  in  childlike  glee,  as  only  those 
can  laugh  who  feel  secure  in  the  possession  of  great 
happiness,  and  therefore  can  jest  at  the  possibility  of 
losing  it. 

"  Claudine,"  she  exclaimed,  in  the  midst  of  her  laugh- 
ter, "  how  you  look !  Do  not  be  annoyed  ;  it  is  not  high 
treason. — You  know,  Adalbert,  how  I  love  to  tease  ? 

1-2* 


138  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Good  heavens!  this  pain  in  my  chest !  It  is  the  laugh- 
ing.— Claudine  !  Claudine!"  The  word  died  away  in 
a  violent  fit  of  coughing.  "  Water !  water !"  she  gasped. 

The  terrified  girl  sprang  up  and  ran  to  the  table, 
where  stood  a  carafe  of  water.  Frau  von  Katzenstein, 
who  had  rushed  into  the  room,  supported  the  sufferer, 
who  gasped  for  breath,  while  the  Duke  stood  beside 
the  lounge  with  a  gloomy  air,  his  wife  holding  his  hand 
in  a  convulsive  clasp. 

She  was  racked  by  the  terrible  cough,  and  was  un- 
able to  drink.  The  physician,  hurriedly  summoned, 
glided  noiselessly  into  the  room,  and  Claudine  stepped 
aside  to  make  way  for  the  kindly  old  man. 

"  Dear  Doctor  "Westermann,"  the  invalid  panted 
forth,  "  I  am  better  already ;  it  is  almost  gone  j  I  can 
breathe  again !" 

Gray  twilight  reigned  in  the  apartment;  Claudine 
had  withdrawn  to  the  recess  of  a  window  ;  the  ground 
seemed  burning  beneath  her  feet  as  she  gazed  in  a  sort 
of  bewilderment  at  the  group  in  the  centre  of  the 
room. 

The  Duke  moved  aside,  and  the  sufferer  asked,  in  an 
exhausted  voice,  "  Did  I  startle  you,  Adalbert  ?  For- 
give me  1" 

He  made  a  gesture  of  denial,  but  there  was  in  it  a 
degree  of  suppressed  impatience. 

"  Her  Highness  must  lie  down,"  said  the  physician. 

The  Duke,  who  had  gone  towards  the  door,  suddenly 
returned.  Frau  von  Katzenstein  supported  the  invalid, 
who  rose  obediently  to  go  to  her  room.  She  waved  her 
hand  kindly  to  Claudine :  "  Au  revoir  I  I  shall  send  for 
you,  dearest  Claudine,  in  a  few  moments. — Good-night, 
dear  heart,"  she  said  to  the  J)uke.  "  I  shall  be  all 
right  to-morrow." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  139 

As  soon  as  she  had  disappeared  behind  the  portiere 
the  physician  went  up  to  the  Duke:  "It  is  nothing 
alarming,  your  Highness,  but  the  patient  must  be 
treated  with  extreme  caution  ;  there  must  be  none  of 
the  exciting  conversation,  the  intellectual  discussions 
in  which  her  Highness  delights.  Her  Highness's  tem- 
perament is  one  of  extreme  sensitiveness ;  she  must 
lead  a  monotonous,  commonplace  life." 

"My  dear  doctor,  you  know  the  Duchess;  she  really 
only  laughed  a  little." 

"  I  merely  wished  to  remind  your  Highness,"  the  old 
man  replied,  with  a  bow. 

The  Duke  waved  his  hand  impatiently:  "  Good-even- 
ing, my  dear  Westermann." 

Claudine  was  terrified ;  she  retired  to  the  darkest 
corner  of  the  window-recess,  and  looked  with  dread 
after  the  retreating  figure  of  the  physician.  She  was 
alone, — alone  with  the  Duke.  That  which  she  had 
always  prudently  endeavoured  to  avoid,  that  which 
he  had  evidently  desired,  ardently  desired,  had  taken 
place.  But  perhaps  he  had  forgotten  her  presence  ; 
he  was  restlessly  pacing  to  and  fro ;  oh,  he  might  not 
perceive  her ;  the  single  candle,  which  had  been  has- 
tily lighted  in  the  candelabrum  on  the  chimney-piece, 
scarcely  sufficed  to  illuminate  a  small  circle  about  the 
hearth,  and  she  was  hidden  behind  the  silken  hangings 
of  the  window-recess. 

She  waited  breathless,  like  a  hunted  deer  which  sees 
no  escape  from  its  pursuer.  She  heard  the  beating  of 
her  own  heart  as  plainly  as  his  step  upon  the  soft  car- 
pet. Ah,  she  shrank  ;  the  steps  approached  her  hiding- 
place  ;  a  tall  figure  appeared  between  the  curtains,  and 
a  voice  made  strangely  husky  by  passionate  emotion 
uttered  her  name :  "  Claudine." 


140  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

She  timidly  stepped  aside,  as  if  trying  to  discern 
some  way  of  escape. 

"  Claudine,"  he  repeated,  bending  over  her  so  that  in 
spite  of  the  darkness  she  could  see  the  entreaty  in  his 
eyes,  "  this  scene  has  troubled  you  ?  It  was  not  my 
fault.  I  would  fain  ask  your  forgiveness." 

He  tried  to  take  her  hand,  but  it  was  concealed  amid 
the  folds  of  her  dress.  Not  a  word  issued  from  her 
compressed  lips;  she  stood  mute,  on  the  defensive, 
gazing  at  him  with  beautiful,  indignant  eyes. 

"  What  does  this  mean?"  he  asked. 

"  I  have  the  honour,  your  Highness,  to  be  the  friend 
of  the  Duchess!"  she  said,  in  desperation. 

A  melancholy  smile  hovered  for  a  moment  upon  his 
face.  "  I  know  it.  You  are  not  wont  to  be  of  those 
who  contract  sudden  friendships;  but — you  think  to 
avail  yourself  of  everything." 

"  Such  seems  to  be  your  Highness's  opinion." 

"  Mine  ?  No,  on  my  honour,  Claudine !  But  you, — 
you  do  indeed  hasten  to  take  refuge  behind  the  barrier 
which  this  friendship  erects  between  you  and  me." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  frankly ;  "  and  I  hope  your  Highness 
will  respect  this  barrier,  or " 

"I  recognize  and  honour  your  reserve,  Claudine,"  he 
interrupted  her,  standing  respectfully  at  some  distance 
from  her.  "  Do  not  imagine  that  I  shall  dog  your  foot- 
steps like  a  love-sick  page.  Nothing  shall  remind  you 
that  I  love  you  as  passionately  as  ever  man  loved  woman. 
Only  allow  me  to  be  in  your  society  without  encounter- 
ing the  icy  coldness  which  you  maintain  towards  me; 
grant  me  a  hope  for  a  future  in  which  there  may  be 
sunshine  for  me,  Claudine, — only  this  hope!" 

"  I  do  not  love  your  Highness  !"  she  said,  haughtily 
erect.  "  Permit  me  to  withdraw." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  141 

"  No !  One  word  more,  Claudine  I  I  ask  for  no  ad- 
mission of  your  preference;  this  is  neither  the  time  nor 
the  place  for  it ;  you  are  right  to  remind  me  of  it.  Is  it 
my  fault  that  I  was  forced  to  marry  without  love,  that 
my  first  ardent  passion  belongs  to  you  ?  The  same 
fate  has  befallen  others  who  were  better  than  I.  It 
comes  without  our  will ;  the  love  exists,  and  increases 
with  every  hour  the  more  we  struggle  against  it.  I 
do  not  know  that  you  share  my  feelings.  I  only  hope 
that  you  do,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  live  without  this 
hope."  He  approached  her  and  leaned  towards  her. 
"Just  one  word,  Claudine,"  he  entreated,  in  a  low, 
humble  tone.  "  May  I  hope  ?  Yes,  Claudine  ?  Say 
yes,  and  not  a  look  shall  betray  our  secret." 

"  No,  your  Highness;  by  the  love  I  bear  my  brother 
I  declare  that  you  are  entirely  indifferent  to  me!"  she 
said,  earnestly,  retreating  still  farther  into  the  recess. 

"Is  there  another,  Claudine?  do  you  love  another? 

If  that  were  so 1"  came  in  the  same  passionate 

tones. 

She  made  no  reply. 

He  turned  away  with  a  gesture  of  despair  and 
walked  to  the  opposite  door,  then  returned  once  more. 

"  Do  you  imagine  that  every  regard  would  not  be  had 
for  your  honour?  Do  you  imagine  I  could  degrade 
you  ?"  he  asked.  "  Do  you  imagine " 

"  Your  Highness  does  so,"  she  interrupted  him,  "in 
speaking  to  me  of  love  in  your  invalid  wife's  apart- 
ment." 

"  If  you  think  so "  he  said,  sadly. 

"By  heaven,  I  dol  I  do  think  so,  your  Highness!" 
the  girl  exclaimed. 

"Claudine,  I  entreat!"  he  whispered,  and  again  he 
paced  the  room,  so  hastily  that  the  flame  of  the  candle 


142  THE  OWUS  NEST. 

on  the  chimney-piece  wavered  in  the  draught  and  burned 
more  dimly.  Once  more  he  approached  her.  "  You 
know  that  my  brother,  the  Crown  Prince,  died  suddenly, 
shortly  before  my  father's  death,  about  twelve  years 
ago  ?"  he  said,  inquiringly. 

She  mutely  assented. 

"  But  you  do  not  know  that  at  that  time  our  court 
had  entered  into  negotiations  with  that  of  X.  as  to  a 
project  of  marriage  between  the  Princess  Blise  and  the 
Crown  Prince,  my  brother.  The  affair  was  wellnigh 
concluded  when  my  brother  died,  and  I  inherited  his 
rights,  and  also  his  duties.  After  the  period  of  mourn- 
ing had  expired  I  went  to  X.  and  wooed  the  bride." 

"  It  was  a  voluntary  act,  your  Highness." 

"  Not  at  all !  This  marriage  was  but  another  burden 
added  to  that  already  imposed  upon  me  by  my  succes- 
sion. The  Princess  Elise,  who  received  me  without  a 
suspicion  in  her  large,  childlike  eyes,  was  as  little  aware 
of  the  proposed  alliance  with  my  brother  as  of  the 
views  with  which  I  sought  her.  She  is  susceptible, 
and  it  cost  me  but  little  trouble  to  win  her  affection. 
At  that  time  I  was  supremely  indifferent  to  women ;  I 
knew  very  little  of  the  best,  and  the  rest  bored  me.  At 
first  I  rather  disliked  the  Princess  Elise;  I  cannot 
endure  women  who  are  always  hovering  in  realms  of 
the  sublime.  I  hate  overstrained  feeling,  exaggera- 
tion 'now  soaring  to  heaven,  now  sunk  in  despair.'  I 
thought  at  times  her  sudden  dissolvings  into  tears 
would  drive  me  mad.  I/ater,  what  had  at  first  repelled 
me  became  a  matter  of  indifference  to  me.  I  have 
always  been  an  attentive  husband,  and  have  since  her 
illness  shown  a  certain  forbearance  for  her  caprices  ;  I 
honour  and  esteem  her  as  the  mother  of  my  children  ; 
but  my  heart  was  untouched,  and  grew  more  indiffer- 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  143 

ent  as  her  affection  for  me  increased.  I  cannot  help  it; 
no  reasoning  upon  the  subject  can  do  any  good.  Then 
I  saw  you.  I  know — yes,  yes,  I  know  you  judged  my 
preference  by  the  light  of  inherited  ideas  and  fled  from 
it  to  your  forest  home ;  but  my  ardent  longing  drove 
me  to  pursue  you  thither,  and  I  find  you  here  as  unap- 
proachable as  ever — nay,  the  friend  of  the  Duchess." 

An  uncertain  expression  hovered  for  an  instant  upon 
his  face.  "  Well,  Claudine,  I  will  acquiesce  for  the 
present,"  he  went  on ;  "  only  one  question  you  must 
answer:  do  you  love  another?" 

She  was  silent;  her  fair  face  flushed  crimson  with 
maidenly  shame  as  she  bent  her  head. 

"Say  no!"  the  Duke  whispered,  passionately. 

"  Her  Highness  begs  Fraulein  von  Gerold  to  come  to 
her  in  her  bedroom,  and  to  bring  the  volume  of  Scbef- 
fel's  songs,  that  she  may  read  some  of  them  aloud  to 
her  Highness,"  said  Frau  von  Katzenstein,  entering  the 
room. 

Claudine  started,  and  looked  up  as  if  suing  for  pity. 

"  Yes  or  no,  Claudine :  are  your  affections  engaged  ?" 
he  whispered,  authoritatively. 

She  recreated  a  step,  and  courtesied  low.  "  Yes  1"  she 
said,  firmly,  and  then  passed  him  with  head  erect,  the 
book,  which  she  had  mechanically  taken  from  the  table, 
in  her  hand.  Eead  aloud  now  ?  She  felt  paralyzed ! 


The  Duchess  was  lying  in  her  huge  French  canopied 
bed,  the  heavy,  red  silk  hangings  of  which  were  drawn 
aside.  The  entire  apartment  was  furnished  with  this 
intense  red,  the  favourite  colour  of  its  inmate.  From 
the  ceiling  hung  a  chandelier  of  ruby  glass.  Beside  the 


144  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

bed  stood  a  table  covered  with  red  silk,  on  which  a 
lamp  with  a  red  shade  was  burning,  and  where  stood 
a  folding  leather  case  holding  the  photographs  of  the 
Duke  and  the  young  Princes.  On  the  opposite  wall, 
in  a  heavy  gilt  frame,  was  a  wonderful  copy  of  the  Ma- 
donna della  Sedia;  the  Duchess's  first  glance  on  awaking 
could  not  but  rest  on  this  charming  picture. 

Her  Highness  seemed  to  be  much  better;  she  lay 
with  a  certain  sense  of  comfort  beneath  her  red  cover- 
let, and  smiled  at  Claudine  as  she  entered.  "  Sit  down 
here  on  this  ottoman  and  read  me  the  Thuringian  songs, 
dear  Claudine.  Did  the  Duke  stay  with  you  ?  Was 
he  very  much  distressed  by  that  attack  of  coughing? 
I  am  so  sorry  to  have  to  cough  when  he  is  by  ;  I  know 
how  it  depresses  him.  Was  he  very  sad  ?" 

The  invalid  looked  keenly  in  the  face  of  the  girl,  who 
did  not  know  what  reply  to  make.  She  sat  down  and 
stooped  to  pick  up  her  handkerchief,  hoping  thus  to 
gain  time.  What  a  fearful  dilemma  was  this! 

"Claudine,"  said  the  Duchess,  "I  believe  you  all 
think  me  very  ill,  more  ill  than  I  really  am.  Eead  to 
me.  I  do  not  wish  you  to  answer  me.  There,  where 
my  marker  is." 

And  Claudine  read,  in  a  tremulous  voice, — 

"  No  pain  the  German  forest  brooks ; 

Within  its  depths  they  vanish, 
And  every  ill  from  life  and  looks 
Its  healthful  breezes  banish " 

"  Do  you  hear  ?"  the  Duchess  interrupted  her, — "  do 
you  hear?  I,  too,  shall  recover  here !  And  to-morrow 
the  sun  will  shine,  and  we  will  go  out  among  the  firs 
and  inhale  health.  Oh,  my  beloved  home  1" 

******* 


THE   OWL'S  XEST.  145 

As  Claudine  was  descending  the  staircase  to  drive 
home,  Herr  von  Palmer  met  her,  and  accompanied  her 
all  the  way  down.  Unperceived  by  her,  he  motioned 
to  the  maid  whom  the  Duchess  had  sent  down  with 
her  to  withdraw. 

"  Fraulein  von  Gerold,"  he  began,  with  an  exagger- 
ated show  of  respect, — he  could  not  have  been  more 
servile  in  manner  had  she  been  Duchess  already, — "  his 
Highness  has  intrusted  me  with  the  flattering  commis- 
sion of  placing  a  note  in  your  hands.  I  thus  fulfil  it." 
He  held  out  to  her  a  note  sealed  with  the  ducal  arms. 
"  It  concerns  her  Highness  the  Duchess,  and,  his  High- 
ness says,  requires  no  answer." 

She  was  forced  to  take  it,  although  she  would  gladly 
have  repulsed  the  hand  that  offered  it  to  her.  How 
could  the  Duke  be  so  careless  as  to  send  her  a  letter, 
a  sealed  letter,  by  this  creature  ?  She  tore  open  the 
envelope  in  his  presence  and  read  the  few  lines  it 
enclosed : 

"  CLAUDINE, — Your  character  is  unique,  and,  conse- 
quently, your  judgment  of  what  is  unique  will  be  cor- 
rect. After  your  last  word,  I  have  only  one  request  to 
make:  remain  the  Duchess's  friend  in  spite  of  all.  Do 
not  let  what  I  have  said  result  in  your  avoidance  of 
Altenstein.  It  need  not  do  so,  Claudine.  On  my  word 
you  may  trust  me !  ADALBERT." 

"With  the  note  and  envelope  in  the  hand  that  hung 
by  her  side  she  hastily  traversed  the  hall.  Herr  von 
Palmer  followed  her,  and  helped  her  respectfully  into 
the  coupe,  not  forgetting  to  gather  up  and  arrange 
her  train  as  carefully  as  though  he  had  been  a  mother 
taking  care  for  her  daughter's  ball-dress.  Not  until 
Q  k  13 


146  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

the  servant  closed  the  door  of  the  vehicle  did  he  retire 
with  a  low  bow. 

"  Au  revoir,"  he  said,  as  the  footman  sprang  up  beside 
the  coachman,  and  the  horses  started.  Then,  with  a 
smile,  he  drew  from  the  right  sleeve  of  his  coat  a  small 
paper.  "You  ought  to  be  more  careful,  my  lovely 
Claudine,"  he  murmured,  reading  the  lines  by  the  light 
of  the  lantern  above  the  door. 

With  a  satisfied  nod,  and  humming  an  opera  air,  he 
re-entered  the  castle  and  sought  his  room  on  the  ground- 
floor.  Here  he  lighted  a  cigar,  threw  himself  into  an 
arm-chair,  and  re-read  the  note.  He  had  known  its 
contents  for  an  hour;  he  read  privately  everything, 
one  might  say,  that  the  Duke  wrote,  from  a  distance, 
from  the  movement  of  the  pen  ;  if  the  worst  came  to 
the  worst,  an  envelope  could  be  opened.  To-day  he 
had  had  no  trouble,  for  before  the  Duke  had  enclosed 
his  note  he  had  sprung  up  from  the  table  where  he  had 
been  writing  to  pace  the  room,  and  thus  the  contents 
of  the  sheet  had  been  revealed  to  the  falcon-eyes  on 
the  watch.  Nevertheless,  it  was  pleasant  to  possess 
the  original. 

"His  Highness  appears  to  have  made  a  somewhat 
stormy  appeal,"  he  murmured,  "  and  she  has  repulsed 
him  with  virtuous  indignation, — threatened  not  to  come 
again.  And  now  he  begs  her  for  the  Duchess's  sake 
not  to  persist  in  such  cruelty,  and  promises  amend- 
ment. With  time  won,  all  is  won,  he  thinks.  It  is 
developing  quite  logically, — no  one  can  deny  that. 
Hm  I  She  is  wise ;  she  will  never  be  satisfied  with 
merely  wreathing  his  Highness's  brow  with  roses ;  she 
will  desire  to  aid  in  his  government.  Such  a  woman 
always  thinks  she  can  atone  for  her  doubtful  position 
by  what  are  called  virtuous  deeds ;  she  would  fain  en- 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  147 

noble  the  unhappy  man  whom  she  Las  in  her  toils, 
would  fain  show  the  people  that  their  beloved  sovereign 
is  in  no  unworthy  hands ;  they  shall  be  made  to  adore 
her,  kneeling,  calling  her  '  the  country's  good  angel.' 
And  the  wisest  of  such  women,  in  their  devotion  to 
petty  interests,  see  only  what  is  just  before  their  eyes, 
and  in  this  case  the  object  in  question  might  possibly 
be — myself!" 

He  blew  the  smoke  from  his  cigar  towards  the  ceil- 
ing, and  gazed  meditatively  at  the  frescos  there. 

"She  cannot  endure  me,"  he  soliloquized  further. 
"  I  am  to  her  what  Mephistopheles  was  of  old  to  in- 
nocent Margaret,  and  it  is  clear  that  some  day  she  will 
say  to  her  princely  Faust, — 

1  The  man  who  with  thee  goes,  thy  mate, 
"Within  my  deepest,  inmost  soul  I  hate,' 

and  so  on.  That  must  be  prevented.  I  will  not  allow 
it  to  reach  the  point  of  the  Duke's  believing  or  not 
from  her  that  I  am  a  scoundrel.  In  the  mean  time — 
take  care  1  The  Berg  will  help ;  she  has  an  extraordi- 
nary talent  for  intrigue ;  positively,  I  am  almost  afraid 
of  that  woman  sometimes." 

"  Supper  is  served,"  a  lackey  announced.  Herr  von 
Palmer  arose  without  undue  haste,  carefully  locked 
up  the  note  in  a  huge  antique  cabinet,  on  the  doors 
of  which  was  carved  the  Gerold  escutcheon,  arranged 
his  scanty  locks  before  a  tall  mirror,  bathed  his  delicate 
skinny  hands  in  floods  of  cologne,  yawned  slightly, 
took  his  crush  hat  and  gloves  from  the  servant  who 
was  waiting  respectfully,  and  after  a  glance  at  the 
clock,  where  the  hour-hand  pointed  to  ten,  went  to 
the  small  dining-room,  where  the  few  gentlemen  whom 
the  Duke  had  selected  to  attend  him  in  his  present 


148  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

residence  were  assembled, — the  old  Chamberlain  von 
Schlotbach,  the  Adjutant  von  Einkleben,  whose  rank 
was  that  of  captain,  and  the  Squire  von  Meerfeld,  'a 
fellow  like  a  young  dog,'  according  to  Palmer's  descrip- 
tion. The  latter  did  not  seem  especially  to  rejoice  in 
the  friendship  of  these  three  gentlemen.  "  Excuse 
me,"  he  said  to  the  assembled  group ;  "  I  have  kept  you 
waiting.  I  was  engaged  in  his  Highness's  service,  and 
a  most  delightful  service,  gentlemen  1  His  Highness 
ordered  me  to  conduct  the  lovely  Claudine  von  G-erold 
to  the  carriage." 

"By  Jove!  has  she  been  here  again?"  the  squire 
asked,  with  unconcealed  surprise. 

"  She  has  just  left  the  ducal  apartments." 

"  You  mean  '  the  apartments  of  her  Highness,'  Herr 
von  Palmer,"  the  captain  corrected  him,  sharply,  while 
his  face  flushed  slightly. 

"  I  had  the  pleasure  of  encountering  the  lovely  guest 
of  this  house  in  the  upper  corridor,"  Palmer  replied, 
smiling  significantly. 

" Indeed  ? 

'  And  whence  she  came  they  could  not  tell, 

For  all  trace  of  her  presence  vanished 
"When  once  again  she  bade  farewell,'  " 

declaimed  the  squire,  laughing. 

The  captain  glanced  angrily  at  him.  "  Fraulein  von 
Gerold  was  with  the  Duchess,  singing  in  her  drawing- 
room,  and  afterwards  staying  with  her  Highness  in 
her  bedroom,"  he  said,  in  a  loud,  decided  tone. 

"  Extraordinarily  well  informed,"  Palmer  whispered, 
and  then  bowed  low ; — the  Duke  had  just  entered. 

"I  cannot  comprehend  Claudine  von  Gerold,"  the 
captain  said,  gravely,  as,  after  supper,  he  was  walking 
with  Von  Meerfeld  along  the  corridor  leading  to  their 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  149 

room.  "  It  is  misplaced  courage ;  she  ought  to  avoid 
the  lion's  don.  It  is  incredible,  the  rashness  with  which 
a  woman  secure  in  her  own  virtue  will  risk  her  reputa- 
tion." 

"  Perhaps  she  enjoys  the  dangerous  pastime  of  rope- 
dancing,"  Meerfeld  replied,  carelessly:  "if  she  stumbles, 
there  are  arms  extended  to  receive  her ;  if  she  does 
not  stumble,  so  much  the  better.  But  I  should  think 
it  might  be  quite  amusing ;  it  is  infernally  stupid  in 
this  German  Aranjuez." 

"It  might  be  so,  my  dear  Meerfeld,  with  some 
women,  but  I  must  beg  you  to  weigh  your  words  with 
regard  to  the  lady  in  question." 

"Do  not  take  it  so  tragically,  captain  dear,"  the 
other  said,  with  a  laugh.  "  Do  not  lose  sleep  over  it. 
His  Highness  had  by  no  means  the  air  of  a  happy 
lover ;  he  was  more  than  cross.  Ennui  I  ennui  1  This 
Altenstein  was  such  an  insane  idea.  Whatever  stupidity 
one  might  be  guilty  of  here,  I  should  plead  extenuating 
circumstances." 


As  Claudine  drove  up  to  the  gate  at  the  Owl's  Nest, 
Bhe  still  held  a  crushed  piece  of  paper  in  her  hand. 
Old  Heinemann,  who  had  been  waiting  there  for  her  for 
a  long  time,  lantern  in  hand,  received  scarcely  more 
than  a  nod  of  recognition  from  his  young  mistress. 
She  flew  before  him  into  the  house,  and  as  he  bolted 
the  door,  after  following  her,  he  only  heard  the  rustle 
of  her  silken  skirt  in  the  upper  story ;  then  a  door 
closed,  and  all  was  quiet. 

In  Claudine's  small  room  quiet  also  reigned ;  it  was 
as  dark  and  silent  as  if  no  one  were  there;  and  yet 

13* 


J50  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

there  was  a  figure  seated  at  the  window  gazing  out 
into  the  forest  that  enclosed  the  lonely  house  in  a 
deeper  darkness  than  that  of  the  starless  night,  and 
endeavouring  with  all  the  power  of  her  mind  to  review 
calmly  what  the  day  had  brought  forth.  "What  has 
happened  ?"  she  asked  herself.  And  she  began  :  "  The 
Duke  has  made  me  a  declaration  of  love,  and — I  re- 
pulsed him, — repulsed  him ;  but  at  what  cost !"  At  the 
cost  of  the  confession  of  her  most  sacred  secret ;  that 
which  she  had  hitherto  not  dared  to  confess  to  herself, 
so  wildly  did  her  heart  throb  at  the  mere  thought  of 
it, — that  she  loved.  Her  pride  was  in  arms  at  the  fact, 
and  yet  now  it  was  known  to  him  who  had  dared  to 
approach  her  with  an  insulting  declaration.  Could  tho 
Duke  suspect  whom  she  loved  ?  That  would  be  intol- 
erable ! 

Involuntarily  she  crushed  together  the  note  in  her 
hand,  and  hot  drops  of  shame  stood  in  her  eyes.  She 
rose  hastily,  lit  a  candle,  and,  unfolding  the  paper,  tried 
to  smooth  it  out;  then,  leaning  upon  the  table,  she 
gazed  in  dismay  at  the  empty  envelope, — there  was 
nothing  else, — the  note  was  gone !  The  next  minute 
she  began  a  hurried  search,  upon  the  table,  the  floor, 
the  place  where  she  had  been  sitting  ;  she  shook  out  her 
wrap,  and  the  skirt  of  her  gown,  and  at  last,  taking 
the  candle  with  her,  she  went  out  of  her  room  and 
searched  the  stairs  of  the  sleeping,  silent  house.  There 
was  nothing  to  be  found  1  Stealthily  she  slipped  the 
bolt  of  the  front  door  and  looked  out  upon  the  stone 
step.  There  was  nothing  to  be  seen !  In  her  anxiety 
she  passed,  shading  the  flickering  flame  of  the  candle 
with  her  hand,  along  the  garden-path  to  the  gate  ;  pos- 
sibly she  had  dropped  the  note  in  alighting  from  the 
carriage.  The  grated  gate  leading  out  upon  the  road 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  151 

creaked  as  she  opened  it ;  the  ray  from  her  candle  flitted 
ghost-like  over  the  ground, — there  was  nothing  white 
lying  there.  Suddenly  the  candle  flickered  and  went 
out,  leaving  her  in  the  dark, — a  darkness  which  seemed 
at  first  so  dense  to  her  eyes,  accustomed  to  the  guiding 
light,  that  she  paused  for  a  moment  irresolute,  unable 
to  decide  which  way  to  turn  to  re-enter  the  garden. 

Ah,  there  above  her  window  Joachim's  study-lamp 
was  burning  peacefully,  and  sending  a  narrow  ray 
out  into  the  garden  and  along  the  road.  What  if  he 
knew  she  was  standing  out  here,  her  heart  filled  with 
distress  and  anger  !  She  envied  him  the  peace  of  his 
quiet  room,  where  no  storms  from  without  ever  pen- 
etrated; his  vessel  was  safe  in  port,  while  hers  was 
still  driving  out  upon  the  rolling  sea,  and  God  alone 
knew  where  it  would  find  a  harbour!  Involuntarily 
she  turned  and  gazed  longingly  across  the  dark  moun- 
tains in  the  direction  of  Neuhaus,  and  just  above 
where  it  lay  a  rift  in  the  clouds  showed  a  single  star. 
She  smiled  amid  her  tears ;  it  consoled  her, — it  was  a 
good  omen. 

On  a  sudden  she  started  and  slipped  into  the  open 
gate.  The  sound  of  hoofs  was  audible  on  the  road ;  it 
came  nearer  in  a  rapid  trot ;  the  hoi'seman  passed  close 
to  her,  and  just  where  the  ray  of  light  fell  on  the  road 
he  paused  and  looked  up  at  the  window  of  the  tower. 
She  clutched  the  bars  of  the  gate  as  if  for  support,  and 
gazed  at  him.  Lothar!  What  did  he  want  here?  A 
sensation  of  exquisite  bliss  possessed  her;  the  candle- 
stick dropped  from  her  hands,  which  she  clasped  as  in 
prayer.  Did  she  see  aright  ?  Was  it  really  he  ?  What 
did  he  want  ?  Had  he  come  to  look  up  at  her  window  ? 
Oh  for  a  sign  that  she  was  not  dreaming! — that  this 
was  reality ! 


152  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

He  turned  his  horse  and  slowly  rode  back ;  the  dark- 
ness again  swallowed  up  his  figure  but  the  sound  of 
his  horse's  hoofs  still  rang  in  the  ears  of  the  trembling 
girl,  until  at  last  she  slipped  back  into  the  house. 

She  had  forgotten  the  lost  note;  she  was  unable  to 
think;  her  eyes  burned,  her  lips  were  dry,  and  her 
temples  throbbed.  "Best!  rest!"  she  whispered,  and 
buried  her  hot  forehead  in  her  pillow,  after  hurriedly 
seeking  her  couch.  "  Rest !  Sleep !" 


The  next  day  there  were  great  changes  at  Neuhaus. 
On  the  ground-floor  next  the  sitting-room  to  the  left  of 
the  large  hall,  in  the  lofty,  spacious  dining-room  stood 
a  table  differing  essentially  from  that  usually  spread 
there.  While  it  had  hitherto  been  furnished  with  a 
spotlessly  white  but  somewhat  coarse  linen  cloth,  and 
napkins  of  the  same  quality,  to-day  it  was  covered  with 
the  finest  damask  hanging  down  on  all  sides  nearly  to 
the  parquetted  floor,  which  was  polished  to  a  dangerous 
degree.  The  simple  service  of  English  stoneware  with 
blue  edges  was  replaced  by  costly  old  Meissen  porcelain, 
long  the  pride  of  the  Neuhaus  cupboards ;  beautifully 
shaped  epergnes,  holding  fruits  and  confections,  ap- 
peared instead  of  the  metal  baskets  in  which  Beata 
was  wont  to  have  the  early  pears,  winter  apples,  or 
little  cakes  served  at  dessert ;  and  the  strong  but  clumsy 
knives  and  forks  with  buckhorn  handles  had  given  way 
to  silver,  bright  and  shining  as  if  just  from  the  shop, 
and  yet  marked  with  the  scutcheon  and  monogram  of 
the  Gerolds,  and  with  a  date  which  would  have  borne 
•witness  to  its  antiquity  even  had  it  not  been  attested 
by  its  beauty  of  form. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  153 

The  branches  of  the  huge  crystal  chandelier  above 
the  table,  which  was  set  out  for  seven  people,  were 
furnished  with  yellowish  wax  candles,  as  were  the 
numerous  sconces  on  the  walls.  On  the  tall  oaken 
sideboard  there  was  a  dazzle  of  silver  and  glass.  The 
sun,  that  daily  visited  the  apartment  about  this  time, 
peeped  in  amazed  at  this  unwonted  splendour,  gliding 
here  and  there  in  prismatic  colour,  and  touching  the 
brown  hair  above  Beata's  white  forehead  as  she  stood 
at  a  table  arranging  flowers  in  a  pair  of  vases. 

"  Oh,  do  stand  up  !"  she  murmured,  impatiently,  as 
a  couple  of  gillyflowers  fell  over  on  their  sides  re- 
peatedly. "  There,  that  will  do."  And  she  stuck  a 
red  rose  in  the  midst  of  the  brilliant  structure,  and 
contemplated  it  with  satisfaction,  as  she  handed  it  to 
a  maid  who  was  standing  beside  her.  "  Carry  it  to 
Frau  von  Berg,  Sophy  ;  she  is  to  put  it  in  the  Princess 
Thekla's  room.  The  master  desired  it  placed  there. 
And  come  down  again  as  quick  as  you  can  and  dust  all 
the  chairs  once  more,  and  close  the  blinds  ;  the  sun  is 
coming  in." 

Beata  then  walked  around  the  table,  and  paused, 
with  a  shake  of  her  head,  at  the  place  which  she,  by 
Lothar's  decree,  was  to  occupy  next  to  the  Princess 
Thekla, — to-night  for  the  first  time,  and  then  daily  for 
four  long  weeks.  How  could  she  endure  it?  There 
lay  the  soup-ladle,  the  symbol  of  her  dignity ;  Lothar 
wished  her  to  fulfil  her  usual  duty :  "  For  we  are  at 
Neuhaus,  not  at  court,  and  I  dislike  nothing  more  than 
to  have  the  soup  handed  from  a  side-table;  it  is  so 
easily  spilled." 

But  this  was  the  only  direction  given  by  him  with 
relation  to  the  impending  visit;  everything  else  he 
had  intrusted  to  his  sister's  wise  head  and  capable 


154  THE  OWLS  NEST. 

hands,  and  to  all  appeals  from  her  he  had  replied, 
"  Do  just  as  you  think  fit ;  you  will  be  sure  to  have 
everything  as  it  should  be." 

And  now  her  gigantic  work  of  preparation  was  over. 
She  had  tied  a  white  kerchief  over  her  glossy  brown 
hair,  and  had  gone  through  the  house  in  calico  dress 
and  apron  with  keys,  duster,  and  broom,  had  '  given 
legs,'  as  she  expressed  it,  to  the  servants,  had  seen 
to  the  hanging  of  curtains  and  the  laying  of  carpets, 
and  had  produced  from  chests  and  cupboards  the 
finest  and  best  of  her  store.  All  was  finished,  and 
she  had  a  couple  of  hours  in  which  to  rest  before 
presenting  herself  as  mistress  of  the  household  to  her 
guests. 

The  entire  upper  story  had  been  arranged  for  Lo- 
thar's  distinguished  mother-in-law  and  sister-in-law, 
the  lady-in-waiting  had  been  assigned  a  pretty  room 
next  to  Frau  von  Berg's,  the  gentleman  in  attendance, 
with  the  chamberlain,  occupied  the  pavilion  in  the 
garden,  and  her  Grace's  maid  was  near  her  mistress. 
Lothar  retained  his  room  on  the  right  of  the  hall, 
Beata's  dear  old  sitting-room  and  bedchamber  were 
undisturbed, — she  must  have  a  refuge  somewhere. 

She  now  walked  along  the  corridor  towards  the 
door  of  her  sitting-room ;  there  was  a  shade  of  amuse- 
ment on  her  fresh  face  as  she  took  a  piece  of  chalk 
from  her  key-basket  and  wrote  on  the  brown  panel 
'No  admittance.'  Then,  still  smiling,  she  entered 
her  kingdom,  where  she  sat  resting  in  an  arm-chair 
for  a  while,  and  then  sprang  up  and  hurried  into  her 
bedroom.  After  a  few  moments  she  reappeared  in  a 
large  brown  straw  hat,  with  a  light  wrap  thrown 
around  her  shoulders.  As  she  left  the  room  she  put 
on  a  pair  of  thread  gloves,  and  while  buttoning  them 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  155 

went  into  the  kitchen,  where  the  housekeeper  was 
taking  crisp  cakes  from  the  oven. 

"It  is  a  good  thing,  Eieka,  that  a  few  are  baked," 
said  Beata,  taking  half  a  dozen  of  the  delicate  little 
trifles.  "  Give  me  some  paper, — there.  I  am  going  for 
a  walk,  and  shall  be  back  punctually.  Don't  make  any 
mistakes  with  the  cooking,  and  don't  put  on  the  peas 
too  soon ;  let  the  saddle  of  venison  be  exactly  an  hour 
before  the  fire.  I  repeat,  I  have  no  time  while  I  am  at 
table  to  attend  to  such  things,  or  to  see  whether  the 
trout  are  the  right  colour  and  served  with  cress.  The 
entire  responsibility  is  yours,  Rieka." 

She  nodded,  and  went,  walking  quickly,  straight 
from  the  kitchen  into  the  park,  where  she  followed  a 
b}T-path  out  to  the  high-road.  In  fact,  there  was  no 
excuse  for  her  running  away  thus  just  when  her  repu- 
tation as  head  of  a  household  was  at  stake.  What  if 
anything  should  go  wrong? 

"Never  mind  !"  she  said  to  herself;  "  when  the  whole 
pack  has  arrived  I  shall  hardly  be  able  to  go  to  the 
Owl's  Nest, — to  Claudine  and  the  child." 

She  almost  ran,  and  by  many  short-cuts;  her  face 
was  crimson  as,  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour,  the  Owl's 
Nest  appeared  among  the  trees;  it  was  just  three  in 
the  afternoon. 

The  child  was  playing  with  her  doll's  carriage  in  the 
shade  of  the  old  wall ;  she  came  with  flying  curls  to 
meet  her  '  aunt,'  who  stooped  and  clasped  the  little 
girl  in  her  extended  arms. 

"  It  was  not  pleasant,  Aunt  Beata,"  she  complained  ; 
"  it  rained  all  the  time,  and  Aunt  Claudine  drove  away 
BO  often." 

"  But  to-day  the  sun  shines,  and  you  can  play  in  the 
garden ;  is  not  that  pleasant  ?" 


156  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

The  little  thing  nodded,  and  tripped  on  beside  her. 
"And  Aunt  Claudine  is  at  home,  too,"  she  prattled 
away ;  "  she  is  sitting  in  her  room  writing,  and  she 
has  on  such  a  pretty  dress."  When  they  reached  the 
house  door  the  child  stopped  and  shook  her  fair  head. 
"  I  am  going1  to  Heinemann,"  she  said,  and  was  off  in 
an  instant. 

Beata  mounted  the  narrow  staircase  and  knocked 
at  the  door  of  her  cousin's  room.  Claudine  was  in 
fact  sitting  at  her  writing-table,  but  she  had  finished 
writing;  an  addressed  letter  lay  before  her,  and  the 
fragrance  of  fine  sealing-wax  was  perceptible  in  the 
room. 

"  Oh,  Beata,  is  it  you  ?"  she  said,  wearily,  and  rose 
to  meet  her  visitor. 

"Aha!"  said  Beata.  " In  white  with  blue  ribbons? 
"What  is  it  for?  Are  you  going  to  Altenstein?" 

The  girl  nodded :  "  I  refused  early  this  morning,  but 
the  Duchess  would  not  take  no  for  an  answer.  She 
wrote  that  if  I  could  not  come  to  her  she  should  come 
to  me ;  she  is  going  to  pick  me  up  as  she  drives  past." 
As  she  spoke  she  looked  at  Beata  with  an  air  of  resig- 
nation. "  It  is  so  warm,"  she  continued ;  "  I  longed  for  a 
thin  dress.  They  say  the  colour  of  one's  dress  influences 
the  mood  of  the  wearer;  but  I  might  as  well " 

"  Wear  black  crape,"  Beata  concluded  her  sentence 
as  she  sat  down.  "  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? 
You  look  as  if  you  had  a  headache."  And  she  looked 
inxiously  at  Claudine's  weary  face. 

"  There  is  really  nothing  the  matter  with  me,  Beata." 

•'Really?  Ah,  that  you  get  from  the  court!  So 
happy  a  lady-in-waiting  must  always  be  well,  just  as 
a  ballet-girl  must  always  smile,  even  though  her  breath 
be  wellnigh  gone." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  157 

"You  exaggerate,  Beata,"  said  Claudine,  quietly. 
"No,  I  am  not  ill;  but  I  am  thinking  that  perhaps  1 
shall  go  away  from  here  for  a  while." 

"  You  ?"  exclaimed  her  cousin.     "  Now  ?" 

"Yes,  yes;  but  do  not  say  anything  about  it;  Joa- 
chim knows  nothing  of  it  as  yet,"  she  replied.  And 
before  Beata  could  ask  the  question  hovering  upon  her 
lips,  Claudine  interposed :  "  Did  not  you  meet  Joachim  ?" 

"  No,"  Beata  replied,  in  a  low  tone. 

"I  think  he  meant  to  return  Lothar's  visit;  and  you 
know  what  a  resolve  that  is  for  him.  He  went  some 
time  ago,  and  I  am  convinced  that  he  will  spend  three 
hours  on  the  way,  for  as  he  walks  along  all  sorts  of 
things  occur  to  him,  and  then  he  sits  down  and  writes, 
and  takes  notes  in  his  note-book,  and  forgets  time  and 
place." 

"  He  will  not  see  Lothar,"  Beata  said,  hesitatingly. 
"  Lothar  has  gone  to  Lobstedt." 

"To  Lobstedt?"  asked  Claudine.  "Is  he  going 
away?" 

"No;  he  is  expecting  the  Princess  Thekla  and  hei 
daughter.  Did  you  not  know  it?  She  is  to  spend  four 
weeks  at  Neuhaus  to  enjoy  her  little  grandchild." 

"No,"  Claudine  said,  mechanically. 

"  I  thought  I  had  told  you,  Claudine." 

To  this  Claudine  made  no  reply.  The  silence  that 
ensued  was  so  profound  that  even  the  ticking  of  the 
small  watch  set  with  brilliants,  in  its  pretty  mother-of- 
peai'l  stand  on  the  writing-table,  was  audible.  Beata 
looked  longingly  out  of  the  window.  She  would  have 
liked  to  run  back.  She  thought  of  her  post  as  mistress 
of  the  household  which  she  had  faithlessly  deserted,  this 
day  of  all  others,  and  in  fancy  she  saw  the  figure  of  a 
man  in  the  dim  corridor  at  Neuhaus  pausing  before  a 

14 


158  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

closed  door  whereon  was  inscribed  in  chalk,  '  No  ad- 
mittance I'  And  she  saw  him  shake  his  head  and  slowly 
turn  away.  He  must  not  be  allowed  to  go  so, — no,  no  I 
He  might  never  come  again. 

She  suddenly  sprang  up :  "  Excuse  me,  Claudine,  I 
must  go;  you  know  there  are  all  sorts  of  things  to 
attend  to."  The  falsehood  died  on  her  lips.  She 
blushed.  "  Good-bye,  my  darling  1" 

"  Adieu,  Beata." 

"  God  bless  me,  you  are  ill,  Claudine  !"  she  exclaimed, 
now  first  noticing  her  cousin's  extreme  pallor. 

"  Oh,  no,  no  1"  the  girl  replied,  while  a  wave  of  colour 
dyed  her  cheeks  crimson.  "  I  am  perfectly  well.  Come, 
I  will  go  down  with  you.  Of  course  you  have  a  great 
deal  to  do.  And  if  you  meet  Joachim,  tell  him  to  come 
back  before  the  ladies  arrive  ;  he  is  so  shy,  you  know, 
so  odd." 

"He  need  not  see  them;  I  have  my  own  room," 
murmured  Beata. 

"  Oh,  you  do  not  know  the  Princess  Helena,"  was 
the  bitter  rejoinder. 

"  Indeed  ?"  asked  Beata,  as  she  went  down-stairs 
with  Claudine.  "  Give  me  some  hints  about  this  little 
Princess  ;  I  cannot  get  a  word  about  her  out  of  Lothar." 

"  Beata — I — you  see,  I  am  too  prejudiced  to  be  just. 
She  does  not  like  me,  and  always  shows  me  the  most 
disagreeable  side  of  her  character.  Those  whom  she 
likes  admire  her  excessively.  She  is  a  brilliant  elf,  at- 
tractive without  being  exactly  pretty,  full  of  vivacity, 

capricious "  She  hesitated.  "  Yes,  yes,"  she  added, 

in  an  undertone,  "  she  is  very  charming, — very.  And 
now  good-bye,  Beata  1" 

"  Are  you  crying  ?"  asked  her  cousin.  "  Your  eyes 
shine  so." 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  159 

"  No,"  said  Claudine,  "  I  am  not  crying." 

"  Well,  then,  good-bye,  dear  child.  Devise  some  new 
dresses.  Lothar  is  going  to  give  an  entertainment.  I 
think  you  will  outshine  this  '  very  charming'  Princess, 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  help  me  with  counsel  and  ad- 
vice. I  am  as  ignorant  as  a  child  of  court  etiquette. 
Adieu,  my  darling  ;  good-bye." 

Claudine  hurried  back  into  the  house  and  up  to  her 
little  room.  Since  yesterday  the  world  seemed  to  have 
turned  upside  down.  She  knew  only  too  well  why  the 
Princess  Thekla  was  bringing  her  second  daughter  to 
Neuhaus. 

"  Lost !"  she  whispered,  "  lost  forever!  But  can  that 
be  lost  which  has  never  been  possessed  ?" 

She  was  no  poorer  than  hitherto,  and  yet  since  yes- 
terday— since  that  strange,  terrible  yesterday — a  hope 
had  grown  to  giant  size  in  her  heart ;  involuntarily  she 
had  woven  a  thousand  sweet,  foolish  fancies  from  her 
knowledge  of  Lothar's  midnight  ride.  Hopes  and  fears 
had  agitated  her  until  the  dawn,  when  she  had  fallen  into 
an  uneasy  slumber ;  and  when  she  awoke,  his  image, 
as  she  had  seen  it  in  the  ray  of  light  from  Joachim's 
window,  was  still  present  with  her. 

What  folly!  He  had  not  come  to  look  with  loving 
eyes  for  her  shadow,  but  to  convince  himself  that  she 
was  at  home,  as  an  honest  girl  should  be.  Oh,  he  was 
very  careful  of  the  hon6ur  of  his  name  ! 

She  pressed  her  eyes  with  her  hands  so  closely  that 
she  seemed  to  see  myriads  of  sparks,  but  in  the  midst 
of  them  hovered  a  slight  girlish  figure.  She  dropped 
her  arms  at  her  sides  and  walked  to  the  window.  Was 
she  dreaming?  Through  the  crimson  spots  that  still 
danced  before  her  eyes  she  saw  on  the  other  side  of 
the  garden  gate  the  red  liveries  of  the  ducal  servants, 


160  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

and  at  the  same  moment  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  rushed 
into  her  room :  "  Claudine  dear,  Fraulein  Claudine,  their 
Highnesses !" 

Claudine's  step  was  far  from  firm  as  she  walked  to  the 
mirror,  put  on  a  white  straw  hat,  then  allowed  Frau- 
lein Lindenmeyer  to  thrust  a  blue-lined  parasol  into 
her  hand,  and  went  down-stairs.  She  scarcely  perceived 
that  upon  the  lofty  box  of  the  pretty  two-seated  ve- 
hicle the  Duke  himself  was  holding  the  reins.  Me- 
chanically she  kissed  the  hand  the  Duchess  extended 
to  her ;  the  face  of  its  owner  was  beaming  with  delight 
in  the  drive. 

"Oh,  thank  you,  thank  you,  dear  Claudine!  I  am 
wonderfully  well,"  she  said,  in  her  feeble,  eager  voice. 
"  How  could  I  be  otherwise  ?  Such  heavenl}-  weather, 
the  delicious  odour  of  the  pines,  the  Duke  driving 
me,  and  you  beside  me!  Why,  you  must  see  for  your- 
self." 

They  drove  about  the  forest  for  hours ;  they  stopped 
at  a  lonely  mill  beside  a  rushing  brook,  and  the  Duchess 
begged  of  the  miller's  astonished  young  wife  a  glass  of 
cool  milk,  while  the  Duke  threw  the  reins  to  the  foot- 
man and  stood  by  the  carriage  door  chatting.  With 
gracious  condescension  he  asked  the  miller,  who  hur- 
ried out  respectfully  cap  in  hand,  about  his  business, 
and  bade  him  show  the  Duchess  his  three  boys,  whose 
ages  corresponded  with  those  of  the  three  Princes, 
and  the  royal  lady  asked  the  fair-haired,  sunburned 
children  what  they  were  going  to  be  when  they  grew 
up;  and  when  with  one  accord  they  answered,  'Sol- 
diers !'  she  gave  each  a  bright  thaler  stamped  with 
the  Duke's  likeness.  Then  they  drove  on  towards 
home,  for  the  sun's  rays  were  beginning  to  come  aslant 
*hrough  the  pine  boughs. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  161 

Duchess  asked   a  thousand  questions;  it  cost 
Claiuiine  an  effort  to  collect  her  wandering  thoughts. 

"  There  are  guests  at  Neuhaus,"  the  Duchess  said, 
finally.  "  I  see  the  standard  of  our  family  waving 
above  the  roof." 

"  Her  Highness  the  Princess  Thekla,"  Claudine  said, 
wearily. 

"  And  Helena  ?" 

"The  Princess  Helena  is  also  expected,  your  High- 
ness." 

"Adieu  to  delightful  solitude!"  the  Princess  said, 
with  a  sigh. 

The  equipage  was  just  nearing  the  low  wall  of  the 
Neuhaus  park,  when  two  landaus  appeared,  rolling 
swiftly  along,  coachmen  and  footmen  in  full  livery. 
They  met  close  to  the  entrance,  and  the  Duke  saluted 
with  his  whip,  while  the  Duchess  waved  her  hand 
amiably  towards  the  carriage,  upon  the  brown  silk 
cushions  of  which  sat  two  ladies  opposite  Baron 
Lothar.  Claudine  saw  that  the  young  Princess,  in 
a  becoming  travelling-cloak  of  shining  gray  silk,  its 
wide  sleeves  lined  with  blue,  cast  at  her  from  beneath 
her  pretty  straw  hat  a  glance  of  contemptuous  sur- 
prise, that  the  Princess  Thekla,  as  she  half  reluctantly 
accorded  the  salutation  due  to  the  reigning  Duchess, 
glanced  coldly  at  herself,  and  that  Lothar  appeared 
scarcely  to  notice  her.  In  a  couple  of  moments  they 
had  all  disappeared. 

"The  future  mistress  of  Neuhaus  is  just  making  her 
entrance  there,"  said  the  Duke,  turning  on  his  lofty 
seat  to  glance  at  the  pale  face  of  the  girl  sitting  beside 
his  wife. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so,  Adalbert  ?    What  a  good 
thing  for  the  poor  little  child  !" 
I  14* 


162  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

He  did  not  reply.  Claudine's  hand  grasped  the 
handle  of  her  parasol  more  tightly  in  her  effort  to 
control  all  evidence  of  agitation.  Did  the  Duke  sus- 
pect whom  she  cherished  in  her  heart  ?  She  could  not 
prevent  her  cheeks  from  flushing  crimson,  and  once 
more  she  encountered  the  Duke's  searching  glance. 

"  She  is  a  spoiled  little  creature,"  said  the  Duchess, 
leaning  back  negligently  among  the  cushions.  "  I  trust 
she  may  both  confer  and  receive  happiness.  Between 
ourselves,  dearest  Claudine,  I  think  Gerold's  preference 
is  returned  by  her,  and  regarded  with  favour  by  the 
Princess  Thekla." 

"  I  think  so  too,  your  Highness,"  Claudine  assented, 
startling  herself  by  the  hard  tone  of  her  voice.  She 
had  grown  wonderfully  cold  and  quiet  on  the  instant. 

In  the  mean  time  the  distinguished  guests  were 
established  at  Neuhaus.  The  Princess  Helena  had 
kissed  her  sister's  child,  whom  Frau  von  Berg  had 
presented  to  the  ladies  almost  smothered  in  lace,  and 
had  then  explored  the  mansion.  She  had  gone  up-stairs 
and  down-stairs,  had  opened  doors,  had  looked  into 
rooms,  and  had  asked  the  way  to  her  brother-in-law's 
own  particular  domicile,  whither  she  had  instantly 
betaken  herself.  His  rooms,  with  their  pictures  and 
trophies  of  the  chase  on  the  walls,  their  antique  furni- 
ture and  Eastern  rugs,  were  the  model  of  a  bachelor's 
apartments,  and  she  had  gazed  about  her  there,  her 
black  beady  eyes  wide  with  childish  curiosity.  She 
had  been  in  the  garden,  and  upon  her  return  to  the 
house  had  suddenly  come  to  a  door  upon  which  was 
chalked  in  bold,  decided  characters  '  No  admittance.' 
Her  Grace  had  instantly  lifted  the  latch,  and  her  dark 
head  had  peered  inquisitively  into  the  old-fashioned 
sitting-room.  How  comfortable  it  looked !  How  at- 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  163 

tractively  the  light  from  the  setting  sun  shone  on  the 
furniture,  brown  with  age !  And,  oddly  enough,  there 
by  the  open  window  sat  a  slender  man  reading,  his 
delicate  profile  sharply  defined  against  the  dark  green 
of  the  trees  outside.  He  was  so  absorbed  in  an  old 
parchment-bound  volume  that  he  did  not  perceive  the 
intruder. 

The  little  Princess  softly  closed  the  door  again,  and 
flew  up  the  broad  oaken  staircase.  Up-stairs,  she 
threw  herself  into  an  arm-chair  and  burst  into  a  fit  of 
laughter  at  the  startled  face  of  Frau  von  Berg,  who 
was  sitting  in  her  usual  place,  writing. 

"  What  could  you  mean,  my  dearest  Berg,  by  what 
you  have  told  us  of  this  Neuhaus?"  she  asked,  settling 
her  little  feet  comfortably  upon  a  cushion.  "  Your 
letters  to  mamma  were  full  of '  not  at  all  comme  ilfautj 
of '  provincial  ways,'  etc.  I  think  it  charming,  abso- 
lutely charming  here.  I  shall  not  have  a  throb  of  the 
ennui  which  one  could  always  see  between  the  lines 
of  your  epistles.  And  as  for  the  Baron's  sister,  she  is 
an  original,  and  is  quite  majestic  in  her  gray  silk  gown. 
And  the  child,  whose  looks  you  complain  of, — why, 
wash  off  the  layer  of  violet  powder  that  you  have 
covered  the  poor  little  thing  with,  apparently  to  excite 
mamma's  compassion,  and  it  will  look  much  better. 
At  present  it  resembles  you,  dearest  Berg,  when  you 
want  to  appear  delicate." 

"  Your  Grace !"  exclaimed  Frau  von  Berg,  aggrieved, 
and  flushing  under  '  the  layer'  of  powder. 

"Do  not  be  vexed,"  the  Princess  continued;  "rather 
give  up  such  adornments.  I  think  it  is  charming  here, 
and  I  shall  tell  my  brother-in-law  so." 

"  Then  your  Grace  will  agree  with  him  entirely  j  he, 
too,  finds  it  charming  here." 


164  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Oh,  I  know  what  you  are  thinking,  Berg,"  the 
Princess  replied;  "but  that  is  ridiculous,  simply  ridicu- 
lous. Speak  out,  Berg  dear,  if  you  know  anything 
positive,"  she  went  on,  in  a  tone  of  triumphant  secu- 
rity. "  You  can  understand  my  interest  as  to  who  is 
to  be  the  mother  of  that  child."  She  waved  her  hand 
towards  the  adjoining  i-oom. 

"  Your  Grace  does  not  believe  me,"  the  lady  pouted, 
with  a  passing  glance  at  the  bright  black  eyes  fixed 
almost  passionately  on  her  face. 

"  Sometimes  I  do  not,  but  I  can  generally  discrimi- 
nate between  your  truth  and  your  fiction." 

"  Well,  then  I  leave  you  to  choose,  Princess,  whether 
to  believe  me  or  not,"  Frau  von  Berg  began,  eagerly. 
"He " 

"  That  is  not  true." 

"  But,  your  Grace,  I  have  said  nothing  yet." 

"  Do  not  say  anything,  Alice :  it  is  not  so  I"  the 
Princess  exclaimed,  in  a  tone  that  was  almost  a  threat. 
"  He  never  looked  at  her.  He  always  avoided  her. 
You  meant  to  tell  of  something  else." 

"  As  your  Grace  pleases.     She " 

"She  is  interested  and  fettered  elsewhere;  I  saw  it," 
interposed  Helena.  "  The  Duke " 

"But  I  have  said  nothing  as  yet,"  Frau  von  Berg 
interposed  in  her  turn.  "  If  your  Grace  is  so  well 
informed,  what  is  there  for  me  to  say?" 

"  Tell  me,  Alice,"  the  Princess  now  entreated.  "  Can 
it  be?  Mamma  is  beside  herself  about  it;  she  has 
never  spoken  to  me  since  we  met  the  Duke  with  her 
in  the  carriage,  and  her  nose  has  grown  very  sharp ; 
that  is  always  a  sign  of  storm ;  you  know  it  is,  Alice." 

"  But  the  Duchess  was  driving  too,  Princess." 

"  Oh,  heavens !"  Helena  exclaimed,  clasping  her  small 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  165 

hands ;  "  that  poor  good  Liesel !  As  usual,  she  is  soaring 
in  loftier  regions,  and  cannot  see  the  woods  because  of 
the  trees.  I'll  wager  her  Highness  is  writing  another 
tragedy,  which  will  be  played  next  winter  for  our 
edification.  Don't  you  remember  last  winter,  Alice? 
But  you  were  in  Nice ;  I  forgot.  It  was  fearful !  fear- 
ful! Once  or  twice,  to  be  sure,  the  tears  came  into  my 

eyes ;  but,  on  the  whole heaven  preserve  us  1  There 

were  three  corpses  on  the  stage  in  the  last  act,  and  I 
heard  Count  Windeck  say  to  Fraulein  von  Moorsleben, 
'  Now  be  prepared !  the  prompter  is  going  to  stab  the 
call-boy!' " 

She  laughed  immoderately,  and  then  in  an  instant 
fijrew  grave :  "  But  I  really  love  her,  Alice,  in  spite  of 
it  all ;  she  is  lovely,  with  all  her  sentimental  nonsense. 
Poor,  poor  Liesel !  If  she  had  not  been  sitting  beside 
her  to-day  I  should  have  jumped  out  of  the  carriage 
and  have  given  her  a  hug.  Tell  me,  Alice,  how  can 
any  one  like  to  associate  intimately  with  such  an  icicle 
as  that  Claudine?" 

The  summons  to  dinner  came  at  this  moment,  and 
the  Princess  Helena  ran  off  to  have  her  curls  arranged 
by  her  maid  in  her  own  room.  The  Princess  Thekla 
was  just  going  down-stairs  on  the  arm  of  the  master 
of  the  house,  as  the  little  Princess  followed  with  Frau 
von  Berg  and  the  lady-in-waiting. 

"Apropos,  Alice,"  Helena  asked,  in  an  undertone, 
"  who  is  the  gentleman  that  lives  in  the  room  with  the 
door  marked  '  No  admittance'  ?  " 

"  A  gentleman,  your  Grace  ?" 

"  Why,  yes,  yes." 

•'  Your  Grace  must  have  seen  a  ghost." 

"Not  at  all.  I  shall  ask  Fraulein  von  Gerold." 
And  she  did  so  before  they  were  well  seated  at  table. 


166  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  That  was  my  cousin  Joachim,  your  Grace,"  Beata 
replied,  and  the  soup-ladle  trembled  slightly  in  her  hand. 

"Claudine  von  Gerold's  brother?" 

"  Yes,  your  Grace." 

"  The  Owl's  Nest  is  very  near,  I  hear,  my  dear 
Gerold,"  said  the  Princess  Thekla,  adding  salt  to  her 
soup  as  she  spoke. 

"  A  half-hour's  drive  away,"  Lothar  replied.  "  If 
agreeable  to  you,  I  can  drive  you  past  the  ruins  of  the 
convent.  They  are  worth  seeing." 

"No,  thank  you,"  the  old  Princess  coldly  replied. 

"No,  thank  you,"  replied  the  Princess  Helena,  as 
coldly. 

He  looked  up  from  his  plate  in  surprise :  "  Your 
Grace  can  scarcely  avoid  a  view  of  the  convent ;  our 
most  beautiful  forest  road  leads  directly  past  it." 

"  I  hope,  Baron,"  the  Princess  Helena  interposed, 
thus  diverting  Lothar's  attention  from  his  noble 
mother-in-law's  nose,  which  was  really  becoming  very 
sharp, — "  I  hope  you  will  accompany  me  in  my  rides ; 
Countess  Moorsfeld  joins  me  sometimes." 

"  I  am  at  your  Grace's  service,"  he  replied,  glancing 
at  the  pretty  face  of  the  Countess,  who  with  difficulty 
suppressed  an  ironical  smile  at  the  'sometimes.'  In 
the  capital  she  had  been  obliged  to  join  the  riding-party 
every  day,  or  the  little  Princess  would  not  ride  at  all. 

The  Princess  Thekla  talked  of  a  milk-cure  which  she 
thought  of  trying.  On  a  sudden  she  became  over- 
poweringly  amiable,  rallied  Lothar  upon  his  idyllic 
mode  of  life,  and  called  Beata  '  my  dear'  again  arid 
again.  Never  before  had  she  tasted  such  delicious 
trout ;  and  when  Lothar  arose,  his  glass  of  foaming 
champagne  in  his  hand,  to  acknowledge  the  honour 
shown  his  house  by  this  visit  from  his  child's  most 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  167 

illustrious  grandmamma,  she  graciously  extended  her 
small  hand  loaded  with  rings  for  him  to  kiss,  and  in 
token  of  emotion  pressed  her  lace  handkerchief  to  her 
eyes  for  a  moment. 

Upon  pretence  of  fatigue  she  rose  from  table  before 
dessert,  and  the  ladies  withdrew  to  their  apartments. 
Frau  von  Berg  sat  for  a  long  time  at  the  bedside  of  the 
Princess  Thekla,  and  when  she  went  to  her  own  room 
she  did  so  with  head  erect,  and  added  a  postscript  to 
her  letter  of  the  afternoon  : 

"  All  is  admirably  in  train  ;  the  little  Princess  is  all 
aflame  with  love  and — hatred :  with  the  first  for  we 
know  whom,  and  with  the  last  for  Claudine. 

"  In  a  few  days  the  forest-trees  will  have  a  piece  of 
news  to  tell.  Meanwhile,  in  the  beginning  of  next  week 
there  is  to  be  a  fete  here ;  it  will  be  wonderfully  fine. 
The  Princess  Helena  is  longing  for  a  dance  beneath  the 
lindens  in  the  garden.  By  the  way,  with  all  her  malice, 
she  is  possessed  of  a  certain  good  nature  which  must 
put  us  on  our  guard  lest  she  should  commit  some  folly. 

"  A.  v.  B." 

She  sealed  the  letter  and  carried  it  down-stairs,  where 
one  of  the  scullery-maids  received  it  in  the  dim  light 
of  the  basement  and  with  a  grin  pocketed  a  thaler. 
Frau  von  Berg  paid  a  high  postage. 

From  the  dim  sitting-room  there  echoed  a  burst  of 
merry  feminine  laughter.  When  Beata  had  entered,  a 
figure  was  still  seated  in  her  arm-chair  on  the  platform, 
by  the  window,  writing  at  her  work-table  by  the  dying 
evening  light.  "  But,  Joachim !"  she  cried,  in  her  ring- 
ing tones,  "  do  you  want  to  ruin  your  eyes  ?" 

He   started,  having  quite  forgotten  where  he  was. 


168  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Good  heavens !"  he  exclaimed,  rising  suddenly  and 
looking  for  his  hat,  "  that  old  book  made  me  forget  how 
time  was  passing.  Forgive  me,  cousin ;  I  will  vacate  the 
premises  instantly." 

"  Not  now,"  she  said,  still  laughing,  "  for  you  must 
see  Lothar  ;  your  visit  was  to  him,  was  it  not?"  And 
she  gently  forced  him  back  into  the  arm-chair  and  went 
for  her  brother. 

She  found  him  at  the  window  of  his  room,  gazing  out 
towards  the  road. 

"  Lothar,"  said  she,  "  come  to  my  room.  Joachim  is 
there  still,  having  forgotten  time  and  space  over  that 
old  Spanish  book  of  travels, — the  one  that  was  our 
grandfather's,  bound  in  parchment." 

"  How  in  the  world  did  Joachim  come  here  ?"  Lothar 
asked,  taking  a  cigar-case  and  a  tray  for  ashes  from  his 
smoking-table. 

"  I  found  him  here  when  I  came  back  from  the  Owl's 
Nest,  and  as  I  could  not  stay  with  him,  with  all  I  had 
to  attend  to,  and  did  not  want  to  send  him  away  until 
he  was  rested,  I  bethought  me  of  that  old  book.  You 
see  he  has  been  well  entertained  with  it." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  smile  as  he  walked  beside  her 
through  the  lighted  hall  and  turned  into  the  corridor. 

"  Tell  me,  Beata,  did  you  write  those  words  on  your 
door  when  he  was  there,  or  before  ?" 

"  Before,  of  course,"  she  replied,  quite  naturally,  and 
then  she  blushed. 

"Well,  you  know,  sister,"  he  said,  with  a  merry 
glance  which  became  his  fine  face  wonderfully  well, 
"  people  generally  write  '  no  admittance'  on  the  doors 
of  rooms  containing  something  which  they  wish  to 
keep  for  themselves  alone." 

"You  are  an  odious  fellow F  said  Beata,  confused, 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  169 

hastily  passing  her  hand  over  the  chalk  letters.  And 
then  all  three  sat  round  the  table  in  the  pleasant  room 
over  a  glass  of  wine,  and  Joachim,  being  moved  thereto 
by  the  book,  told  of  his  travelling  experiences.  He 
talked  wonderfully  well.  "  Like  music,"  thought  Beata, 
sitting  idly  by,  forgetting  everything,  forgetting  that 
the  wax  candles  in  the  chandelier  in  the  dining-hall 
were  burning  to  waste,  forgetting  even  to-morrow's 
breakfast. 

The  bunch  of  keys  at  her  girdle  kept  perfectly  quiet ; 
not  the  slightest  jingle  reminded  her  of  her  housewifely 
duties.  The  lindens  outside  of  the  windows  whispered 
in  the  evening  breeze,  and  the  fragrance  of  new-mown 
hay  floated  into  the  room. 

It  was  late  when  Lothar  drove  his  cousin  through 
the  forest  to  the  Owl's  Nest.  On  the  way  back  he  met 
the  Duchess's  coupe.  He  knew  whom  it  contained,  and 
he  passed  it  with  furious  rapidity.  As  he  drew  up 
before  the  hall  door  at  Neuhaus  a  window  above  was 
closed,  and  within  the  quiet  room  to  which  it  belonged 
a  passionate  young  face  buried  itself  among  the  pillows. 

The  Princess  Helena  had  seen  him  drive  away — in 
the  direction  of  the  Owl's  Nest.  Thank  heaven  he 
was  at  home  again ! 


There  was  a  change  at  the  Owl's  Nest.  Fraulein 
Lindenmeyer  had  a  visitor. 

First  there  had  been  a  great  interchange  of  letters, 
and  then,  on  the  morning  after  the  day  when  Claudine 
had  driven  with  the  Duchess,  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer 
made  her  appearance  in  the  girl's  sitting-room,  her  face 
very  red  and  confused,  anfl  an  open  letter  in  her  hand. 
H  15 


170  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Ah,  Fraulein  Claudine,  dear,  I  have  a  great  favour 
to  ask,"  she  began 

"My  dear,  good  Lindenmeyer,  it  is  already  granted," 
Claudine  replied,  pouring  out  the  tea  for  Joachim's 
breakfast. 

"  But  you  must  tell  me  frankly,  Fraulein  Claudine,  if 
you  think  it  unadvisable  ;  I  will  do  everything  that  I 
can  to  prevent  any  annoyance,  but " 

"  Only  let  me  hear  what  it  is,  my  dear  Lindenmeyer," 
Claudine  said,  encouragingly.  "  I  do  not  know  what 
request  of  yours  I  could  refuse,  unless  you  should  ask 
to  leave  the  Owl's  Nest ;  that  I  could  not  allow." 

"I  leave?  Oh,  Fraulein  Claudine,  I  could  not  sur- 
vive such  a  thing !  Oh,  no,  it  is  not  that.  I  expect — 
I  am  to  have — to  have  a  visitor,  if  you  will  allow  me." 

"Why,  who  is  it,  my  dear  Lindenmeyer?" 

"  The  Frau  Forester's  second  daughter,  Ida ;  she 
needs  some  training,  and  wishes  to  be  taught  em- 
broidery, and  the  Forester's  wife  has  taken  it  into  her 
head  that  an  old  thing  like  me  can  teach  her.  I  shall 
be  very  glad  to  do  it,  with  your  permission.  She  could 
have  the  little  room  just  back  of  mine,  if " 

The  good  old  soul  had  clasped  her  hands  over  her 
letter  and  looked  at  her  young  mistress  in  eager  ex- 
pectation. 

"Why,  that  will  be  quite  delightful  for  you,"  was 
the  kind  reply;  "let  the  young  girl  come  as  soon  as 
possible,  and  stay  as  long  as  she  pleases." 

And  so  the  next  day  when  Claudine  betook  herself 
to  the  kitchen  to  fulfil  her  duties  there,  she  found  a 
plump,  girlish  little  figure  already  busy  by  the  bright 
fire,  handling  pans  and  casseroles  as  if  she  had  been 
there  always.  A  pair  of  laughing  blue  eyes  above  a 
pretty  little  turn-up  nose  greeted  Claudine,  and  their 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  171 

possessor  made  a  rather  awkward  courtesy  as  the  grace- 
ful figure  of  the  mistress  of  the  Owl's  Nest  appeared. 

"But,  my  dear  child "  said  Claudine,  surprised. 

"  Ah,  Fraulein  von  Gerold,  let  me  do  it,"  the  girl 
entreated.  "  I  cannot  sit  all  day  long  with  Aunt  Doris 
and  embroider ;  I  should  die  if  I  could  not  do  a  little 
house-work.  Please  do  not  say  no  1" 

"  But  I  cannot  accept  your  services,  my  dear  Ida, 
— is  not  that  your  name  ?  I  should  grow  too  self- 
indulgent." 

"  I  should  so  like  to  learn,"  said  the  girl,  with  down- 
cast eyes. 

Claudine  smiled  :  "  Of  me  ?  Ob,  you  have  come  to 
the  wrong  person ;  I  am  only  a  learner  myself." 

"Dear  Fraulein,  let  me  tell  the  truth.  I  know  some- 
thing of  housekeeping,  but  I  am  ignorant  of  so  many 
other  things.  I  should  like  to  have  a  situation  as 
lady's-maid  in  S.,  and  I  thought  I  could  learn  here 
how  to  dress  a  lady  and  all  the  rest  of  a  maid's  duties. 
Let  me  do  a  little  house-work  here,  and  learn  sewing 
and  a  little  dress-making  in  return." 

The  girl  looked  into  Claudine's  eyes  with  a  pleading 
expression,  and  she  herself  felt  very  sad  and  weary, 
but  she  made  no  reply,  only  betook  herself  to  Fraulein 
Lindenmeyer.  "Now  confess,  Lindenmeyer  dear,"  she 
said,  forcing  herself  to  speak  in  a  jesting  tone,  and 
caressing  the  old  woman  as  she  had  done  in  her  child- 
ish days,  "you  invited  your  visitor  to  relieve  me  of 
the  burden  of  the  house- work  ?"  And  the  tears  stood 
in  her  eyes. 

"Ah,  my  darling,"  the  good-humoured  creature  re- 
plied, "  Ida  has  betrayed  us,  and  we  had  contrived  it  all 
so  beautifully.  Don't  be  angry.  I  cannot  bear  to  see 
you  come  down  in  the  morning  with  your  eyes  looking 


172  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

as  if  you  had  not  slept,  and  so  pale,  so  pale !  There  is 
an  old  proverb,  'A  bed  of  roses  and  ploughed  land 
ne'er  thrive  when  tended  by  one  hand.'  If  you  want 
to  be  fresh  at  court  you  must  be  freer  from  care,  or 
your  lovely  complexion  will  show  it.  Heinemann  says 
so  too;  he  has  been  as  anxious  as  I  about  you.  And, 
Fraulein  Claudine,  it  is  greatly  to  Ida's  advantage  too. 
Her  aunt  could  get  her  a  situation  as  lady's-maid  with 
the  Countess  Keller,  only  that  she  is  too  inexperienced. 
Indeed  it  is  so,"  the  good  old  soul  asseverated. 

And  thus  Claudine  had  an  assistant  in  spite  of  her 
efforts  to  the  contrary.  The  fresh,  modest  young  girl 
brought  comfort  and  brightness  into  the  house.  Never 
was  a  mistress  more  zealously  served,  never  was  a  child 
more  affectionately  spoiled,  than  were  Claudine  and  the 
little  Elizabeth.  Heinemann  actually  beamed  when  he 
met  the  brisk,  smiling  girl  on  the  stairs,  or  heard  her 
in  the  kitchen  singing  her  folk-songs  in  an  undertone, 
so  as  not  to  disturb  the  Herr  Baron.  Little  Eliza- 
beth no  longer  wept  when  Aunt  Claudine  drove  away 
in  the  beautiful  carriage  with  the  Duchess,  and  Clau- 
dine no  longer  was  so  nervous  at  table  that  she  could 
eat  nothing. 

"We  are  quite  grand!"  said  Joachim,  when  Heine- 
mann for  the  first  time  placed  the  simple  viands  upon 
the  table,  and  Claudine  sat  still  in  her  place.  "  I  atn 
rejoiced  tor  your  sake,  sister." 


Claudine  had  given  up  her  journey.  "When  she  men- 
tioned it  to  the  Duchess  her  Highness  burst  into  tears : 
"1  cannot  keep  you,  Claudine;  go,  go  I"  And  then, 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  173 

startled  and  touched,  she  promised  to  remain.  Each 
day  the  carriage  that  conveyed  her  to  Altenstein  came 
earlier,  but  she  was  perfectly  calm  and  serene  now ;  she 
drove  with  the  Duchess  and  sat  with  her  in  her  boudoir 
reading  aloud  and  talking.  Now  and  then,  indeed,  the 
Duke  would  enter  hastily  unannounced,  and  he  was  al- 
ways greeted  with  an  exclamation  of  delight  from  his 
wife ;  but  Claudine  no  longer  dreaded  his  visits.  There 
was  never  an  ardent  glance  to  encounter,  he  never 
attempted  to  whisper  a  syllable ;  she  knew  he  would 
keep  his  princely  word.  She  knew  him  well  through  his 
mother;  many  a  mad  prank  of  his  had  been  recounted 
to  her  by  the  old  Duchess,  who  had  told  her  of  the 
anxiety  she  had  undergone  on  his  behalf,  of  the  fer- 
vent prayers  she  had  uttered  kneeling  before  the 
imaged  Mother  of  God,  above  which  the  little  silver 
lamp  hung  in  her  own  room, — prayers  that  this  beloved 
son  might  not  go  to  ruin  in  the  wild  heyday  of  hia 
youth.  "  And,"  the  old  Duchess  had  added,  "  it  was, 
after  all,  only  the  effervescence  of  youthful  spirits;  his 
heart  was  always  true ;  he  could  be  guided  if  he  were 
appealed  to  in  the  right  way."  And  Claudine  thought 
she  had  discovered  the  right  way.  Hers  was  one  of 
the  noble  natures  that  never  rest  until  they  have  dis- 
covered the  good  in  a  human  soul;  that  search  and 
search,  and,  when  they  have  found  the  gold,  know  no 
bounds  in  their  willingness  to  forgive. 

She  silently  forgave  the  Duke  the  insult  he  had 
oifered  her  when  she  saw  how  chivalrously  he  strug- 
gled with  his  passion,  striving  to  be  more  patient  with 
his  wife  than  before,  and  how  he  honoured  herself 
as  the  friend  of  this  wife.  As  such  she  was  sacred 
from  either  love  or  hatred,  she  grew  to  believe.  She 
wrote  to  the  Dowager  Duchess  alluding  in  heartfelt, 

15* 


174  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

grateful  words  to  her  happiness  in  being  the  chosen 
friend  of  the  Duchess.  "  I  wish  your  Highness  could 
know" — these  were  her  words — "  how  happy  I  am  in 
the  love  and  confidence  of  this  noble  nature ;  I  do  all 
that  I  can  to  show  my  gratitude  for  the  friendship 
thus  accorded.  Even  that  which  your  Highness  has 
sometimes  thought  worthy  of  blame,  proves  upon  a 
nearer  acquaintance  to  be  no  fault.  Her  Highness 
not  only  frankly  displays  her  affection  for  her  hus- 
band, her  whole  being  is  so  permeated  by  her  love 
for  him  that  she  could  not  conceal  it  without  hy- 
pocrisy." 

Claudine  seemed  happier  than  she  had  been  for  a 
long  time.  She  began  to  await  with  impatience  the 
carriage  which  was  to  take  her  to  Altenstein.  In  the 
intellectual  atmosphere  that  surrounded  the  invalid  she 
felt  her  own  sorrow  dwindle.  One  day  the  Duchess, 
with  all  the  shyness  of  a  school-girl,  slipped  into 
Claudine's  hand  some  manuscripts.  They  contained 
charming  verses  composed  by  herself;  first  a  joyous 
song  of  betrothal,  then  the  earnest  outpouring  of  the 
happiness  of  the  young  wife,  and  then  verses  written 
beside  the  cradles  of  her  sons.  They  were  perhaps  too 
tender,  too  sentimental,  but  as  Claudine  looked  at  their 
author  she  thought  it  could  not  be  otherwise  than 
that  they  should  have  been  inspired  by  intense  happi- 
ness and  by  a  presage  of  death. 

And  there  were  several  short  stories  among  them, 
unique  of  their  kind,  always  portraying  the  fortunes 
of  two  people  who  loved  each  other  beyond  all  else  in 
the  world,  but  who  were  parted  either  by  death  or  by 
some  cruel  destiny,  never  by  the  fault  of  either.  Clau- 
dine had  been  surprised  by  the  tragic  nature  of  all  the 
endings,  but  had  not  ventured  to  speak  of  it,  lest  she 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  175 

should  add  to  the  melancholy  to  which  the  Duchess 
was  so  often  a  prey. 

Thus  eight  peaceful,  happy  days  passed.  The  Neu- 
hausers  had  not  disturbed  this  serenity,  as  the  Duchess 
had  feared  they  would.  The  Princess  Helena  had  ap- 
peared several  times  like  a  hurricane  in  the  Duchess's 
apartments,  but  had  given  it  to  be  clearly  understood 
that  she  was  in  the  greatest  haste  to  return  to  the 
'sweet  baby'  of  her  late  sister.  Meanwhile,  the  old 
Princess  was  laid  up  on  a  lounge  at  Neuhaus  with 
a  sprained  ankle.  Claudine  saw  Beata  but  for  a  mo- 
ment at  a  time,  when  she  came  in  the  early  morning  to 
the  Owl's  Nest  to  inform  herself  as  to  various  little 
Princess-habits,  and  to  disburden  herself  of  quantities 
of  delicate  cakes,  bonbons,  and  confections.  She  ap- 
proved highly  of  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer's  'visitor,'  but 
otherwise  she  was  very  taciturn  and  depressed,  and  in 
reply  to  Claudine's  questions  shrugged  her  shoulders 
rather  impatiently  and  declared  that  she  desired  noth- 
ing so  much  as  to  be  four  weeks  older.  It  was  fearful, 
far  worse  than  she  had  fancied ;  not  a  corner  in  the  en- 
tire house  was  there  where  one  could  be  safe  from  that 
jack-o'-lantern  the  Princess  Helena,  and  Lothar  only 
shrugged  his  shoulders  when  she  complained  to  him. 

Claudine  bowed  her  head,  as  if  to  receive  the  coup- 
de-grace  which  would  annihilate  all  hope,  but  Beata 
paused,  and  then  began  to  tell  of  how  Frau  von  Berg 
grew  more  disagreeable  every  day,  and  certainly  had 
great  influence  with  the  old  Princess.  "  It  makes  no 
difference  to  me,  however,"  she  had  added. 

To-day,  a  delicious  summer  day,  the  Duchess  had 
ordered  tea  in  the  park,  just  where  the  forest-trees  gave 
place  to  the  garden  ;  the  spot  where  Joachim's  wife  .had 
fallen  asleep  forever.  The  Duchess's  hammock  was 


176  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

swinging,  beneath  an  old  oak,  and  Claudine,  sitting  be- 
side her  in  a  light  bamboo  easy-chair,  was  reading  aloud. 
Upon  the  Japanese  table  before  her  lay  Frau  von  Kat- 
zenstein's  inevitable  knitting :  the  old  lady  was  stand- 
ing on  one  side,  busy  with  the  tea.  In  the  shade  of 
a  group  of  huge  chestnuts,  separated  from  the  ladies 
by  the  breadth  of  the  gravelled  avenue,  the  Duke  was 
playing  at  ninepins  with  the  two  older  Princes,  Captain 
von  Rinkleben,  and  Herr  von  Palmer ;  the  shouts  of  the 
children,  laughter,  and  the  noise  of  the  tumbling  pins 
filled  the  air,  and  the  Duchess  looked  across  at  the 
players  with  a  blissful  expression  in  her  eyes. 

"  Stop  there,  Claudine,"  she  said  at  last.  "  The  day 
is  so  lovely,  the  sunshine  so  golden,  and  that  story  so 
gloomy.  It  seems  to  me  perfectly  unnatural  to-day. 
What  do  you  think  is  going  to  happen  now  ?  I  mean 
to  the  people  in  the  book." 

"  I  am  afraid,  your  Highness,  that  it  ends  terribly," 
said  the  young  lady,  obediently  putting  down  the 
volume. 

"  He  has  procured  the  poison,"  the  Duchess  went  on, 

"Yes,"  rejoined  Claudine  j  "she  must  die." 

"  She  ?"  the  Duchess  said,  amazed.  "  What  a  horrible 
idea  I  He  is  going  to  poison  himself  because  he  feels 
that  he  cannot  live  with  her  or  without  the  other.'1 

"  I  am  not  sure,  your  Highness,"  the  girl  stammered, 
"  but  from  the  course  of  the  story  I  suspect " 

"  Give  me  the  book !"  exclaimed  the  Duchess.  She 
opened  it  and  read  the  close.  "  Good  heavens,  Clau- 
dine, you  are  right!"  she  said  then. 

"  There  was  nothing  else  to  be  done,  psychologically, 
if  we  remember  the  man's  character  as  it  was  de- 
scribed  " 

"  It  did  not  strike  me  as  anything  remarkable,''  the 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  177 

Duchess  interposed.  "No,  Claudine, — it  is  all  false! 
Thank  God,  such  fancies  are  the  offspring  of  insanity. 
We  will  not  go  on  with  the  book;  the  world  is  so  beau- 
tiful and  I  am  so  light-hearted  to-day." 

She  threw  aside  the  silken  coverlet  spread  over  her 
simple,  dotted  foulard  gown,  and  pointed  to  the  group 
beneath  the  chestnuts. 

"  Look,  Claudine,  there  comes  the  Duke  ;  he  is  tired 
of  pla}ring. — Dear  heart,  I  am  too  lazy  to-day  for  our 
game  of  dominos,  but  perhaps  Fraulein  von  Gerold 
will  take  my  place  ?  Please  bring  the  table  here."  She 
turned  in  her  hammock,  and,  resting  her  head  on  her 
hand,  looked  on  while  the  Duke  took  his  place  oppo- 
site Claudine,  distributed  the  dominos,  and  arranged 
his  own. 

Suddenly  Claudine's  slender  fingers  began  to  tremble ; 
she  bent  her  lovely  face  over  her  dominos,  and  a  rosy 
flush  mantled  her  cheek  and  brow.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  strip  of  lawn  there  was  a  glimmer  of  blue,  which 
fluttered  about  like  a  delicate  butterfly  and  then  paused 
motionless.  And  back  of  this  blue ? 

"  Ah,  my  child,"  said  the  Duchess,  in  an  undertone, 
"you  are  not  paying  attention;  the  Duke  will  win  the 
game." 

"  Oh,  what  an  idyllic  group  !  Watteau  might  have 
arranged  it !  I  am  afraid  we  shall  intrude,  Baron,"  the 
Princess  Helena  said,  as,  dressed  in  light-blue  muslin,  she 
turned,  with  an  expression  that  was  half  sarcasm,  half 
vexation,  to  where  her  mother  was  advancing  leaning 
on  the  arm  of  her  son-in-law  and  followed  by  the  lady- 
in-waiting  with  her  cavalier.  And  as  she  spoke  she 
looked  in  Lothar's  faoe,  which  showed  not  the  slightest 
change  of  feature. 

Her  Grace  the  old  Princess  put  up  her  eye-glass,  and 


178  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

x 

said,  composedly,  "  En  avant,  my  child :  you  wanted  to 
surprise  Elizabeth.  You  will  please  to  announce  us." 

Princess  Helena  advanced,  but  she  no  longer  flut- 
tered gayly ;  she  walked  slowly  and  her  face  wore  a 
discontented  expression.  She  closed  her  parasol  noisily 
as  she  neared  the  old  oak-tree  and  paused  with  a  pout. 
"Excuse  me,  your  Highness,  if  I  intrude " 

The  Duchess  looked  up  and  laughed.  "Where  did 
you  come  from,  you  gypsy  ?"  she  asked,  holding  out 
her  hand.  "  Did  you  fly  over  the  wall,  or " 

"In  a  carriage  from  Neuhaus.  Mamma,  Baron 
Gerold,  and  the  rest  are  there  behind  the  trees,  and 
request  permission  to  pay  their  respects." 

She  bowed  gracefully  to  the  Duke,  kissed  the  Duch- 
ess's hand,  and  then,  appearing  not  to  notice  Claudine, 
who  stood  by,  she  began  to  wave  her  parasol  with  comic 
zeal,  as  if  to  notify  the  visitors  that  they  were  welcome. 

The  Duke  went  to  meet  the  old  Princess,  and  con- 
ducted her  to  his  wife.  While  greetings  were  inter- 
changing, Lothar  happened  to  stand  beside  Claudine, 
but  in  vain  did  she  look  for  a  word  from  him ;  she  re- 
ceived only  a  silent  bow.  All  seated  themselves,  and  a 
lively  conversation  ensued  among  the  illustrious  ladies. 
Princess  Thekla  excused  herself  for  her  delay  in  in- 
quiring for  her  Highness's  health,  but  she  had  slipped 
upon  the  Neuhaus  staircase  and  had  been  obliged  to 
sit  with  her  foot  on  a  rest  for  six  long  days;  and 
Princess  Helena's  visits  had  been  so  short;  there  was 
no  driving  her  from  the  nursery,  or  from  Neuhaus 
itself;  she  had  even  borrowed  a  linen  apron  from 
Fraulein  Beata,  and  had  run  about  with  her  in  garret, 
pantry,  and  cellar.  And  as  she  spoke  the  old  Princess 
archly  shook  her  forefinger  at  her  daughter.  "  Yester- 
day I  caught  her  in  the  kitchen,  where  they  were 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  179 

preserving  raspberries.  Yes,  yes,  try  to  hide  your 
stained  fingers." 

The  Duchess  turned  to  the  Princess  Thekla  with  a 
smile:  "  And  how  is  the  little  grand-daughter?" 

"  Well,  it  is  recovering,"  the  old  lady  replied,  ungra- 
ciously ;  "  hut  not  as  it  should.  Our  good  Berg  fol- 
lowed perhaps  too  implicitly  the  directions  of  the  phy- 
sician whom  the  Baron  employs, — never  any  medicine, 
but  cool  bathing,  and  fresh  air  all  day  long;  the  child 
is  far  too  delicate  for  such  treatment.  It  is  taking 
aconite  now  as  a  preservative  against  cold,  and  is  kept 
in  the  nursery  until  noon." 

"My  little  daughter  is  just  beginning  to  walk,"  the 
Baron  added,  composedly ;  "  and  as  she  has  attained 
the  normal  size  of  a  young  lady  two  years  old,  she 
clambei's  about  by  the  sofas  and  chairs " 

"  Not  as  much  as  she  should,"  the  Princess  Thekla 
interrupted. 

"  I  am  quite  satisfied  with  the  little  that  she  does," 
he  rejoined. 

Meanwhile,  Claudine  turned  kindly  to  the  Countess 
Moorsleben  and  addressed  a  few  remarks  to  her.  A 
couple  of  monosyllables,  while  the  young  lady's  merry 
brown  eyes  looked  in  another  direction,  were  the  sole 
reply. 

Claudine,  surprised,  fell  silent.  The  little  Princess, 
in  a  rocking-chair  opposite  her,  stared  at  her  pro- 
vokingly  for  a  while.  Claudine's  beautiful  brown  eyes 
looked  calmly  and  half  inquiringly  into  those  bold, 
black  stars,  whereupon  the  dark,  curly  head  was 
turned  away,  and  a  contemptuous  smile  hovered  upon 
the  rather  too  ripe  lips. 

"  The  young  ladies  ought  to  have  a  game  of  cro- 
quet," the  Duchess  proposed.  "  I  am  sure  those  gen- 


180  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

tlemen  will  gladly  take  part  in  it.  My  dear  Claudine. 
please  show  the  Princess  and  Countess  Moorsleben  the 
way  to  the  ground,  and  have  the  hoops  set  out." 

Claudine  rose. 

"Excuse  me,  your  Highness.  No,  I  thank  you,"  said 
Helena ;  "  I  am  rather  tired."  She  leaned  her  head  back 
in  the  rocking-chair  and  slowly  rocked  herself.  Count- 
ess Moorsleben  sat  down  again  when  her  mistress  re- 
i'used,  and  Claudine  quietly  took  her  place  once  more. 

Ices  and  tea  and  coffee  were  served.  The  gentlemen 
came  over  from  where  they  had  been  playing  and 
joined  the  ladies;  Claudine  was  suddenly  aware  of 
two  of  them  behind  her  chair,  Herr  von  Palmer  and 
Captain  von  Kinkleben.  She  soon  entered  into  conver- 
sation with  the  latter;  she  had  known  his  younger 
sister  at  school,  and  now  asked  after  her.  He  gave  a 
long  account  of  her  marriage,  and  of  the  happiness 
she  had  found  in  it,  contrary  to  all  expectation.  Yery 
moderate  means,  a  small  income,  and  yet  she  was  per- 
fectly contented  and  happy. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Claudine ;  "  with  a  little  content  the 
smallest  home  can  be  charmingly  decorated." 

"  Fraulein  Claudine  herself  is  a  striking  example  of 
what  she  is  saying,"  Palmer  interposed.  "  The  Owl's 
Nest  is  an  idyl,  a  dream,  Fraulein  Claudine,  where  you 
reign  as  a  fairy  of  comfort.  True,  the  consciousness 
that  it  is  only  an  episode  helps  to  complete  the  charm. 
It  is  easy  to  be  contented  when  one  beholds  a  temple 
of  happiness  in  the  distance." 

Claudine  looked  at  him  inquiringly.  He  smiled  fa- 
miliar^, and  took  a  glass  goblet  of  ice  from  the  table 
at  his  side. 

"  You  are  obscure,  Herr  von  Palmer ;  I  do  not  un- 
derstand you,"  said  Claudine. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  181 

"  Really  ?  Ah,  Fraulein  von  Gerold,  with  jour  bril- 
liant intellect  that  is  scarcely  to  be  credited.  It  must 
seem  very  home-like  to  you  here,"  he  went  on,  as  if 
changing  the  subject.  "  Probably  the  time  is  not  far 
distant  when  you  will  return  definitely  to  your  ances- 
tral home.  The  perpetual  drives  to  and  from  the 
Owl's  Nest  are,  after  all,  tiresome,  and  will  be  specially 
so  during  the  approaching  festivities  at  Altenhaus  and 
Neuhaus." 

"  I  am  unfortunate  to  day,  Herr  von  Palmer;  again 
I  do  not  catch  the  point  of  your  remarks." 

"  Then  look  upon  his  words  as  prophetic,  Fraulein 
von  Gerold,"  said  a  clear  young  voice,  and  the  heredi- 
tary Prince,  an  ideally  handsome  lad  of  twelve  years, 
with  his  mother's  large,  sparkling  eyes,  pushed  his 
chair  over  beside  Claudine.  "Prophets  always  speak 
obscurely,"  he  added. 

"  Bravo,  your  Highness !"  exclaimed  Herr  von  Pal- 
mer, laughing. 

"  I  wish  Herr  von  Palmer  might  be  a  true  prophet," 
the  lad  continued,  looking  with  the  frank,  bold  admira- 
tion of  his  years  at  the  beautiful  girl.  "  You  ought  to 
come  and  live  with  mamma,  Fraulein  von  Gerold.  She 
said  to  papa,  yesterday,  that  it  would  be  so  pleasant  if 
you  never  had  to  drive  away." 

Herr  von  Palmer  continued  to  smile. 

"  Unfortunately,  that  cannot  be,  your  Highness  ;  I 
have  duties  at  home,"  Claudine  replied,  quietly,  "  or 
how  gladly  would  I  come  to  my  dear  Altenstein  I" 

"  It  is  a  delightful  property,"  the  captain  remarked. 
<(  Such  a  wonderful  garden  !" 

"  It  was  my  grandfather's  hobby,"  Claudine  observed, 
sadly. 

"  You  used  to  play  here  at  '  robbers  and  princess' 
16 


182  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

with  your  brother  and  other  children  when  you  were 
little,  did  you  not  ?"  asked  the  Prince,  without  taking 
his  eyes  from  her  face. 

"Down  there,"  she  nodded,  pointing  towards  the 
left,  "  by  the  low  gate- way  in  the  wall ;  it  was  used 
as  a  sally-port." 

"  Captain,"  Princess  Helena  called  aloud,  "  I  should 
like  a  game  of  croquet,  after  all.  Come,  Isidora." 

The  Countess  and  the  captain  arose  and  hastened 
towards  the  croquet-grounds.  Princess  Helena  still 
lingered.  "Baron,"  she  said  to  Lothar,  and  there  was  a 
shade  of  entreaty  in  her  voice,  "  will  you  not  play  ?" 

He  rose  and  looked  at  her  as  he  bowed  an  assent. 
"  Has  your  Grace  asked  all  who  are  to  take  part  in  the 
game  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Of  course ;  we  are  two  against  two." 
"  No  more  than  four  ?    Ah,  indeed  I    Your  Highness," 
— he  turned  to  the  young  Prince, — "  Princess  Helena 
wishes  to  play  croquet.   I  know  how  you  love  the  game." 
Her  Grace's  little  foot  tapped  the  ground  impatiently. 
"  I  am   sorry,"  the   Prince   replied,  gravely,    "  but 
Fraulein  von  Gerold  has  just  promised  to  show  me  a 
spot  where  I  can  build  a  fortress  with  my  brother. 
I  am  much  more  interested  in  that." 

Baron  Lothar  smiled.  He  stood  still  for  a  moment 
watching  the  young  Prince,  who  offered  Claudine  his 
arm  with  a  charming  air  of  importance. 

The  Duchess  looked  after  the  pair  with  surprise. 
"  Why  does  not  Fraulein  von  Gerold  join  the  game  ?" 
she  asked  the  Baron. 

"  Princess  Helena,  your  Highness,  made  up  the  party 
who  were  to  play,"  he  replied. 

"  Pray,  Baron,"  the  Duchess  said,  gently,  but  very 
decidedly,  "  go  to  your  cousin  and  tell  her  how  sorry  I 


TUB  OJFZ/'S  NEST.  183 

am  that  they  forgot  to  invite  her  to  play,  and  bring  her 
back  with  you,  if  possible.  The  Prince's  tutor,  whom 
I  see  approaching,  will  supply  your  place  in  the  game 
while  you  are  absent." 

The  Baron  bowed,  and  departed  to  excuse  himself  to 
the  Princess  and  to  resign  his  mallet  to  the  tutor,  an 
amiable  but  shy  man.     Then  slowly  and  by  a  round 
about  path  he  went  to  seek  his  cousin. 

The  old  Princess's  nose  during  this  episode  suddenly 
grew  sharp  and  white. 

"  Pardon  me,  your  Highness,"  said  she,  putting  her 
delicate  cup  down  noisily  on  the  table,  "  Helena  cer- 
tainly had  no  idea  of  offending;  she  means  well,  and 
loves  your  Highness  dearly.  Her  honest  heart  carries 
her  away,  and " 

"  I  really  cannot  see  what  honesty  has  to  do  with  it, 
dearest  aunt,"  rejoined  the  Duchess,  her  cheeks  flushed 
with  excitement. 

Herr  von  Palmer  looked  across  at  the  Duke,  who 
took  not  the  slightest  notice  of  this  conversation.  His 
Highness  was  playing  with  his  eye-glass  as  he  gazed 
gravely  after  the  white,  graceful  figure  of  the  girl  upon 
whose  arm  the  Prince  was  hanging  familiarly,  asking 
her  all  sorts  of  questions.  They  had  disappeared  for 
some  time  in  a  thicket  of  jessamines,  when  the  Duke 
slowly  turned  his  head  and  encountered  the  eyes  of  the 
Princess  Thekla;  they  looked  brighter  than  usual,  and 
there  was  an  expression  of  suppressed  malice  upon  her 
sharp  features. 

"He  plays  the  lover  early,"  the  Duke  observed. 
"  The  boy  is  all  fire  and  flame." 

"And  he  has  good  taste,  too,"  said  the  Duchess, 
entering  merrily  into  the  jest. 

"  That  he  gets  from  his  papa,"  the  old  Princess  inter- 


184  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

posed,  in  her  shrill  voice,  and  for  a  moment  the  inno- 
cent smile  of  the  woman  of  the  world  displaced  the 
suppressed  malice  in  her  face  as  she  sat  erect  in  her 
chair. 

The  Duke  courteously  took  off  his  hat  and  made 
her  a  low  bow:  "Yes,  my  revered  aunt,  I  have  always 
preferred  to  look  at  a  handsome  woman  rather  than 
at  an  ugly  one,  and  if  you  think  the  Prince  has  in- 
herited this  propensity  from  me,  you  make  me  very 
happy.  I  thank  you." 

Herr  von  Palmer's  sharply-cut  features  quivered  with 
suppressed  merriment.  It  was  delicious !  if  the  Berg 
could  only  hear  it !  Princess  Tbekla  plucked  nervously 
at  the  lace  of  her  pocket-handkerchief;  the  Duchess 
cast  an  appealing  glance  at  her  husband, — she  was 
perfectly  aware  of  his  antipathy  for  Aunt  Thekla.  It 
dated  from  his  boyhood,  when  the  said  aunt,  who  had 
a  distinguished  talent  for  espionage,  followed  up  his 
mad  pranks  for  the  sake  of  detailing  them  to  the 
Dowager  Duchess ;  of  course  not  always  quite  truth- 
fully. She  now  deigned  no  further  word  to  the  Duke  ; 
she  turned  to  the  Duchess,  and  overwhelmed  her 
with  exaggerated  expressions  of  affection, — expressions 
tinged  with  a  kind  of  compassion,  such  as  one  uses 
towards  those  who,  innocent  themselves,  are  called  to 
bear  some  great  sorrow,  and  which  are  calculated  to 
put  to  the  torture  nervous,  proud  natures. 

The  Duchess  did  not  understand  her,  but  she  suffered 
keenly  from  all  her  questions,  observations,  and  advice, 
and  when  at  last  Princess  Thekla  sighed,  "  If  I  were 
only  convinced  that  this  Altenstein  were  really  doing 
you  good  1"  she  grew  impatient,  and  asked  to  be  con- 
ducted to  her  room,  as  she  was  tired. 

This  was  the  signal  for  the  departure  of  the  guests. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  185 

In  a  short  time  the  place  beneath  the  oak  was  deserted, 
the  gay  croquet-balls  lay  about  under  the  trees,  and 
the  two  Princesses  were  rolling  along  the  forest  road 
towards  Neuhaus  with  those  who  had  accompanied 
them  to  Altenstein. 


Claudine,  with  the  young  Prince,  had  sought  the 
deepest  recesses  of  the  park.  She  was  glad  at  heart 
to  escape  from  Lothar's  eyes  ;  the  intentional  slight  on 
the  part  of  the  little  Princess  had  scarcely  offended 
her ;  it  was  so  perfectly  childish  that  she  thought  it 
hardly  worthy  of  notice.  There  had  always  been  a 
certain  ill  will  displayed  towards  her  in  that  quarter; 
it  dated  from  balls  and  other  festivities  at  court,  when 
Claudine  had  quite  involuntarily  thrown  the  little 
Princess  into  the  background.  Why  Helena  should 
have  chosen  to  testify  her  dislike  to-day  in  so  striking 
a  manner,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  Duke  and  the 
Duchess,  she  could  not  conceive.  Her  small  Grace 
must  have  been  in  a  very  bad  humour,  or — could  she, 
with  the  clear  insight  of  love,  have  suspected  Clau- 
dine's  sentiments  towards  the  man  whose  affection  she 
coveted?  No,  that  could  not  be.  The  Princess  was 
sure  of  her  ground, — so  sure  that  she  could  borrow 
Beata's  apron  and  play  the  housewife  in  her  future 
home. 

And  Lothar,  too,  must  be  secure  in  the  possession 
of  that  inconstant,  coquettish  little  heart ;  else  how 
could  he  have  allowed  himself  to  recall  her  ironically 
to  a  sense  of  her  rudeness  ? 

The  girl  suddenly  wrinkled  her  brow  and  bit  her 
lip.  What  right  had  he  to  notice  what  happened  to 

16* 


186  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

her  ?  He  never  would  have  done  so  had  she  not  borne 
the  name  of  Gerold.  That  insane  pride  of  family  ! 
She  surely  knew  how  to  defend  her  own  dignity,  how 
to  take  care  of  herself ;  she  needed  no  guardianship,  no 
sympathy,  least  of  all  from  him. 

She  had  reached,  with  her  youthful  companion,  the 
extreme  end  of  the  park,  where,  even  in  her  childhood, 
the  trees  and  bushes  were  allowed  to  grow  as  they 
pleased.  It  was  a  damp,  mossy,  fragrant  nook,  through 
which  rippled  a  little  brook,  its  banks  clothed  with  a 
rich  abundance  of  feathery  ferns.  Beneath  the  little 
birchen  bridge  the  water  bubbled  and  gurgled,  just  as 
it  had  been  wont  to  do  when  she  had  played  here  as 
a  child.  There  stood  the  half-ruined  hut  which  had 
done  duty  in  her  plays  both  as  a  dungeon  and  as  a 
knightly  stronghold  ;  how  often  she  had  sat  within 
it  as  an  imprisoned  chatelaine  !  Melancholy  oppressed 
her  as  she  told  it  all  to  the  Prince.  There  too  was 
the  gravestone  beneath  which  lay  Joachim's  favourite, 
the  little  yellow  beagle  Lola,  who  was  so  clever  a  little 
dog  that  she  never  betrayed  his  hiding-place  when 
they  were  all  at  play,  but  would  be  quiet  as  a  mouse 
by  his  side  while  the  rest  were  searching  near.  Those 
were  happy  times, — whither  had  they  gone  ? 

"Where  does  that  lead  to?"  asked  the  Prince,  point- 
ing to  a  low  door  in  the  wall. 

"  To  the  village,"  Claudine  replied.  "  By  that  door 
the  servants  used  to  go  to  church  on  Sundays." 

The  curious  Prince  drew  the  girl  still  farther  along 
the  path  by  the  wall,  plying  her  with  all  kinds  of 
questions.  Suddenly  he  perceived  a  jay  in  one  of  the 
tall  trees,  and,  forgetting  his  companion  and  the  cour- 
tesy due  to  her,  he  ran  after  it.  The  bird  flew  from 
branch  to  branch,  luring  the  boy  on,  appearing  here 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  187 

and  vanishing  there,  until  both  disappeared  among  the 
trees. 

Claudine  sauntered  on,  lost  in  melancholy  memories, 
for  a  while  before  she  perceived  that  she  was  alone. 
She  sighed  and  passed  her  handkerchief  over  her  eyes. 
What  did  she  desire?  All  was  as  it  had  been.  Tears 
and  regret  will  not  restore  what  is  lost,  nor  will  weep- 
ing and  wailing  avail  to  alter  heaven's  decrees.  "  The 
time  must  come  when  the  pain  will  be  soothed,"  she 
said  to  herself;  "  it  must  come ;  no  one  could  live  with 
a  heart  so  wounded  and  torn." 

She  stood  still ;  the  tears  gathered  in  her  eyes.  Now 
that  she  was  alone,  the  misery  that  she  felt  in  his  pres- 
ence asserted  itself;  she  knew  that  she  could  not  endure 
to  see  him  calmly  smiling  beside  another  woman,  the 
acknowledged  lover  of  a  superficial,  wayward  girl. 

"Excuse  me,  cousin  ;"  his  voice  suddenly  broke  the 
stillness.  She  turned  in  positive  terror;  a  shining  drop 
fell  upon  her  hand,  which  she  hastily  covered  with  the 
other,  while  the  old  haughty  expression  appeared  on 
her  beautiful  face. 

"  I  should  not  have  ventured  to  disturb  you,"  he  con- 
tinued, approaching  her,  "  but  that  her  Highness  com- 
missioned me  to  tell  you  how  much  she  regretted  your 
having  been  rudely  treated." 

"  Her  Highness  is  always  kind,"  was  the  cool  reply. 
"  I  did  not  mind  it ;  one  learns  to  overlook  such  trifles 
and  to  judge  according  to  desert." 

"  You  appear  to  have  learned  much  of  late,  cousin," 
he  said,  bitterly,  walking  on  beside  her.  "  I  remember 
the  time  when  you  avoided  every  glance  like  a  timid 
fawn, — it  does  not  seem  to  me  so  long  ago, — in  the 
capital." 

"  True,"  she  replied ;  "  the  weak  are  roused  to  sudden 


188  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

strength  by  the  knowledge  that  they  must  act  for 
themselves.  Besides,  I  am  twenty -three  years  old, 
cousin,  and  have  lately  been  forcibly  awakened  from 
the  old  girlish  existence." 

"There  is  something  of  grandeur  in  the  pride  of  a 
woman's  soul,"  he  rejoined,  not  without  irony ;  "  the 
pity  is  that  the  first  shock  that  life  brings  can  shatter 
this  pride  so  easily.  It  always  touches  me,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  to  see  a  woman,  ignorant  of  the  world,  and 
with  a  courage  beyond  compare,  take  up  an  untenable 
position.  I  feel  like  shutting  my  eyes  lest  I  should  be- 
hold her  failure,  but  I  cannot ;  I  would  fain  snatch  her 
from  the  brink  of  the  dizzy  abyss,  but  I  encounter  only 
a  cool,  smiling  repulse." 

"There  may  perhaps  exist  a  woman  who,  in  addition 
to  sufficient  courage,  possesses  strength  enough  to  main- 
tain her  position,"  said  Claudine,  trembling  with  emo- 
tion and  quickening  her  pace. 

"  Possibly,"  he  replied,  with  a  shrug.  "  There  are 
natures  which  regard  themselves  as  exceptional.  '  This 
I  can  venture,'  they  say,  '  with  impunity."  Their  de- 
struction is  all  the  more  complete." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?"  she  asked,  calmly.  "  "Well,  there 
are  natures  which  have  such  faith  in  themselves  that 
they  can  pursue  the  path  pointed  out  to  them  by  duty 
and  conscience  without  looking  to  the  right  or  to  the  left, 
and  without  paying  any  heed  to  uncalled-for  advice." 

"  Uncalled-for  ?" 

"  Yes !"  she  exclaimed,  and  her  beautiful  eyes  flashed. 
"  What  right  have  you,  Baron  Gerold,  to  force  upon 
me,  as  soon  as  you  see  me,  your  mysterious  wisdom, 
your  ambiguous  sarcasms?  Have  our  relations  with 
each  other  ever  been  such  as  to  warrant  a  like  guardian- 
ship on  your  part  ?" 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  189 

"Never,"  he  replied,  dejectedly. 

"  And  they  never  will  be  such,"  she  continued,  with 
bitterness.  "  I  can,  however,  for  your  satisfaction,  as- 
sure you  that  the  name  of  Gerold — the  sole  object  of 
your  anxiety — shall  never  suffer  through  me,  for — I 
know  my  duty."  She  had  turned  pale. 

She  quickened  her  steps  still  more;  he  fell  back, 
overtaking  her  at  the  gardener's  trim  dwelling,  where 
Heinemann's  only  daughter  lived  with  her  husband. 
Claudine  stopped  by  the  open  window ;  behind  the 
white  curtains  Heinemann's  pretty  grand-daughter  was 
sitting  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break,  and  her 
mother,  a  neat,  good-looking  woman,  came  out  to  see 
her  former  young  mistress,  wiping  her  eyes  with  tho 
corner  of  her  apron. 

"Her  'Schatz'  has  thrown  her  off  to-day,  Fraulein 
Claudine,"  she  explained. 

"But  why?"  Claudine  asked,  compassionately,  con- 
trolling her  own  agitation. 

"It  is  her  own  fault,  Fraulein  Claudine,"  the  woman 
began,  mournfully,  courtesying  to  the  Baron ;  "  the 
young  master  on  the  estate  where  she  is  at  service  has 
been  running  after  her  and  flattering  her,  and  Wilhelm. 
thought  she  was  false." 

"That  is  very  unjust  of  Wilhelm,"  said  Claudine. 

"Ah,  Fraulein  Claudine,"  the  woman  rejoined,  "you 
can't  blame  him.  I  know  she  is  good,  for  I  know  my 

child,  but  a  young  man  like  him Lisette  ought  to 

have  left  her  place,  as  I  advised,  and  then  this  never 
would  have  happened.  You  see,  Herr  Baron,"  she  con- 
tinued, with  another  awkward  courtesy  to  Herr  von 
Gerold,  "no  one  will  believe  it;  'tis  the  way  of  the 
world.  She  might  cry  her  eyes  out  and  nobody  will 
believe  that  she  has  done  no  wrong.  I've  thought  so 


190  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

often  to-day  of  the  verse  which  my  gracious  lady,  your 
grandmother,  Fraulein  Claudine,  wrote  in  my  hymn- 
book  on  my  confirmation  day.  Here  it  is."  And  she 
reached  inside  the  window  and  brought  out  a  book 
bound  in  black  with  gilt-edged  leaves,  which  she  opened 
and  handed  to  Claudine.  "  There,  just  under  the  Herr 
Pastor's  verse." 

Claudine  took  the  book.  There  was  written  first, 
in  delicate  masculine  characters,  '  Blessed  are  the  pure 
in  heart,'  and  beneath  it,  in  the  old  Baroness's  energetic 
handwriting, — 

'  Purity  not  alone  you  need : 
Pure  you  must  seem  in  word  and  deed.' 

The  book  trembled  in  Claudine's  hand ;  she  returned 
it  without  a  word. 

"Let  him  go,  my  child," — Lothar's  voice  sounded 
strangely  hard, — "  he  would  make  a  very  disagreeable 
husband,  with  a  tendency  to  be  jealous  and  to  preach 
morals  to  you." 

The  girl  sprang  to  her  feet:  "  No,  no  I  he  was  so  dear 
and  good;  I  cannot  live  if  he  does  not  come  back  to 
me." 

"  We  can  live  through  much,  little  one,"  he  said, 
kindly.  "It  is  not  easy  to  die  of  disappointed  expec- 
tations." 

Claudine  had  nodded  gravely  to  the  girl, — she  was 
still  very  pale.  "  Good-bye,  Lisbeth,"  she  said,  "  and  do 
not  grieve  for  one  who  does  not  trust  you." 

"Ah,  Fraulein  Claudine,  do  not  say  that!"  the  girl 
exclaimed,  and  hurried  away  from  the  window. 

Claudine  turned  and  walked  on  with  Lothar  at  her 
side.  Her  grandmother's  words  flamed  before  her  eyes 
and  cast  a  bewildering  light  upon  her  own  position. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  191 

What  if  people  were  already  gossiping  and  whisper- 
ing about  her?  And  if  such  gossip  should  be  credited? 
What  if  one  of  all  others  believed  that  she  had  been 
false  to  her  honour?  She  suddenly  looked  up  at  him 
with  pleading  inquiry  in  her  eyes. 

He  was  walking  quietly  beside  her.  No, — no, — no  I 
The  fancy  was  an  insane  one ! 

"  The  place  is  deserted,"  he  observed ;  "  they  seem 
to  have  gone  into  the  house." 

In  fact,  no  one  was  to  be  seen  beneath  the  oak  save  a 
footman,  who  was  clearing  away  the  tables  and  chairs, 
and  who  informed  them  that  the  guests  had  returned  to 
Neuhaus,  and  that  her  Highness  was  expecting  Fraulein 
von  Gerold  in  her  room.  The  carriage  would  return 
from  Neuhaus. 

Claudine  turned  towards  the  house.  The  setting 
Bun  gilded  the  tips  of  the  trees,  and  kindled  to  a  flame 
the  numerous  windows  in  the  front  of  the  old  gray 
Btone  mansion.  A  rosy  hue  tinged  the  atmosphere ; 
the  vesper  bell  could  be  heard  from  the  neighbouring 
village. 

"Good-bye,"  said  Lothar,  pausing.  "I  should  like 
to  find  his  Highness,  to  take  leave  of  him;  you  are 
familiar  with  these  paths,  and  can  surely  forego  my 
guidance."  He  made  her  a  low  bow, — ironically  low, 
she  thought. 

She  inclined  her  head  haughtily.  She  knew  well 
that  the  slight  tie  of  kinship  which  in  the  seclusion 
of  country  life  had  superficially  drawn  them  together 
had  been  sundered,  sundered  irrevocably,  when  she 
had  declined  '  uncalled-for  advice.'  Had  she  been  too 
harsh  ?  She  hesitated  a  moment  before  going  farther, 
and  then  walked  with  redoubled  speed  along  the  path 
leading  to  the  principal  avenue. 


192  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

At  a  tui'ning  the  Duke  suddenly  confronted  her. 
He  took  off  his  hat,  and,  holding  it  in  his  hand,  walked 
beside  her,  talking  of  the  laying  out  of  the  park,  and 
pointing  out  a  magnificent  group  of  copper-beeches, 
which  contrasted  effectively  with  the  light  green  of 
the  larches  behind  them.  "  Where  did  you  leave  the 
Baron,  Fraulein  von  Gerold?"  he  then  asked. 

"My  cousin  left  me  only  a  minute  ago,"  she  replied. 
il  If  I  do  not  mistake,  he  was  going  to  look  for  your 
Highness,  to  take  leave  of  you." 

"Ah!  Well,  he  can  easily  find  me.  I  have  a  plan, 
besides,  for  keeping  him  here  this  evening, — to  have  a 
game  of  billiards.  My  capricious  little  cousin  must  be 
punished."  He  smiled  as  he  spoke,  and  looked  keenly 
at  Claud ine.  "I  hope  you  were  not  wounded  by  her 
childishness  ?"  he  asked,  walking  beside  her  in  the 
broad  avenue  leading  to  the  castle. 

"No,  your  Highness,"  Claudine  replied,  looking  to- 
wards the  castle  with  a  frown. 

On  the  steps  in  front  of  it  two  gentlemen  were 
standing  talking ;  one  had  just  said  to  the  other,  "  By 
Jove,  captain,  look  there,  if  you  wish  to  see  Louis  the 
Fourteenth  desirous  of  showing  his  respect  for  the  La 
Valliere  1" 

He  who  was  thus  addressed  made  no  reply,  but 
looked  with  a  puzzled  expression  at  the  couple  ap- 
proaching with  such  apparent  good  understanding. 

Above,  from  the  window  of  the  balcony,  a  white 
kerchief  was  waved,  and  the  Duchess's  wasted  face 
appeared  smiling  behind  the  panes. 

The  gentlemen  bowed  as  they  moved  aside  to  allow 
the  Duke  and  Claudine  to  pass.  She  looked  strangely, 
the  Duchess's  beautiful  friend ;  there  were  hard  lines 
about  the  mouth  which  was  wont  to  be  so  lovely,  and 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  193 

she  ascended  the  staircase  as  slowly  and  wearily  as 
if  she  were  carrying  a  heavy  burden.  "  Now  all  is 
over,"  she  repeated  to  herself,  as  she  walked  through 
the  antechamber  to  the  apartment  of  the  Duchess. 

"Claudine!"  she  cried,  turning  from  the  window, 
where  she  had  been  impatiently  awaiting  her  favour- 
ite, and  throwing  her  arms  about  the  girl's  neck,  "  You 
have  been  away  so  long!  When  you  left  me  I  grew 
impatient  immediately :  I  should  have  liked  to  go  after 
you.  I  really  cannot  live  without  you.  Do  you  hear, 
Claudine?" 

She  drew  the  girl  down  beside  her  lounge  in  the 
shade  of  the  red  curtains,  and  looked  into  the  melan- 
choly blue  eyes. 

"  Poor,  dear  heart !  you  were  wounded ;  the  child 
was  naughty  and  must  be  punished.  It  is  the  old 
story  of  the  goose,  who  when  with  the  swan  can  attract 
attention  only  by  its  loud  cackling.  Claudine,"  she 
whispered,  "  I  saw  again  how  high  above  all  the  rest 
you  are !"  She  pressed  the  girl's  cool  hand.  "  I  love 
you  so  dearly !  Ah,  Claudine,  when  we  are  alone  to- 
gether I  pray  you  to  call  me  Elizabeth.  Do  I  ask  too 
much?" 

"  Your  Highness !"  stammered  Claudine. 

"Not  'Highness,'  Claudine.  How  can  I  call  you 
Claudine  if  you  call  me  'your  Highness'?  I  must  be 
'Elizabeth'  to  you.  Ah,  please,  please  1  I  have  never 
had  any  one  who  could  be  to  me  what  you  are!  Let 
me  be  sure  that  you  are  my  friend  ;  forget  the  Duchess 
when  we  are  alone  together,  and  remember  that  I  am 
to  you  only  Elizabeth,  who  loves  you  dearly." 

Claudine  kneeled  beside  the  gentle  invalid.  She 
would  fain  have  said,  "  Let  me  go !  let  me  go !  It  is 
better  for  both  of  us  that  I  should  go  from  you  as 
i  n  17 


194  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

far  as  my  feet  can  carry  me."  But  such  words  she 
could  not  utter  beneath  the  gaze  of  the  feverishly- 
brilliant  eyes  looking  so  pleadingly  into  her  own ;  and 
then  a  kiss  closed  her  mouth,  and  the  next  instant 
she  felt  something  cool  upon  her  arm,  and  a  brace- 
let sparkled  there  in  shape  like  a  horseshoe,  the  nails 
being  represented  by  sapphires  and  diamonds. 

"  Will  your  Highness — will  you,  Elizabeth,"  she  cor- 
rected herself,  and  her  tears  flowed — "never  repent 
your  choice  of  a  friend  ?"  Her  face  was  pale  and 
grave  as  she  asked  the  question. 

"I  have  a  true  perception,  Claudine,  of  human 
worth ;  I  know  that  she  upon  whom  I  have  bestowed 
my  affection  is  not  unworthy." 


The  Princess  Helena  returned  to  Neuhaus  in  a  very 
bad  humour.  During  the  drive  thither  she  had  sat 
silent  in  one  corner  of  the  landau,  and  the  Princess 
Thekla  had  been  as  silent  in  hers.  Countess  Moors- 
leben,  who  was  in  attendance,  with  difficulty  sup- 
pressed a  smile,  there  was  such  a  resemblance  between 
the  old  and  the  young  countenance  at  such  moments  of 
vexation. 

When  the  apartments  up-stairs  at  Neuhaus  were 
reached,  the  storm  burst,  and  upon  the  head  of  Frau 
von  Berg,  who  was  summoned  to  the  little  Princess's 
room.  The  young  lady  heaped  her  with  the  most  in- 
sane reproaches,  as  if  it  were  her  fault  that  four  hun- 
dred years  previously  an  old  Gerold  had  taken  it  into 
his  head  to  build  here  in  the  country  a  strong  castle 
which  had  to-day  become  this  detestable  Altenstein. 
It  was  a  horrible  residence,  a  positive  desert;  it  was 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  195 

as  clear  as  daylight  that  no  man  of  sense  would  ever 
have  purchased  such  a  tasteless  domain  unless  with 
'  views'  of  a  special  description. 

"  Was  ever  such  a  thing  heard  of  as  that  I  should  be 
publicly  reproved  by  her  Highness  because  of — because 

of  such  a "  Her  rage  could  not  find  fitting  words. 

"All  that  was  wanting  was  that  the  Princess  Helena 
should  have  to  beg  pardon  of  her  Highness's  lady-in- 
waiting!" 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Frau  von  Berg,  who  had  bowed 
her  head  beneath  this  tempest ;  "  '  beg  pardon'  ?  What 
had  your  Grace  done  ?" 

"  Simply  not  seen  her,  for  I  cannot  endure  her !"  the 
Princess  declared. 

Frau  von  Berg's  eyes  gleamed. 

"Oh,  your  Grace,  do  not  say  so,"  she  said,  gently. 
"Her  Highness  is  infatuated  with  this  friend;  one 
might  almost  suppose  the  lovely  Claudine  guilty  of 
brewing  love-philtres  in  her  old  Owl's  Nest.  How 
disagreeable  a  scene  it  must  have  been  for  the  Baron!" 

"Disagreeable?  Do  you  think  so,  Alice?  He 
showed  no  unwillingness  to  follow  his  cousin,  at  her 
Highness's  request,  to  soothe  her  and  bring  her  back 
to  the  croquet-ground." 

After  these  words  the  Princess  sprang  up  from  her 
chintz-covered  arm-chair  and  ran  to  the  window.  Frau 
von  Berg  saw  her  clinch  both  hands  and  tap  the  floor 
nervously  with  her  foot,  as  if  scarcely  able  to  control 
herself. 

"  What  else  could  he  do,  your  Grace  ?"  said  Frau  von 
Berg.  "  But,  to  be  sure,  it  is  not  impossible ;  who  can 
understand  a  man's  heart?"  And  she  smiled  behind 
the  back  of  the  Princess,  who,  turning  sharply  at 
her  words  as  if  a  viper  had  stung  her,  saw  the  smile 


196  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

upon  her  confidante's  lips.  The  next  moment  a  small 
object  flew  past  Frau  von  Berg's  carefully-dressed  head 
and  fell  on  the  ground  beside  the  porcelain  stove.  It 
proved  to  be  nothing  more  than  the  soft  work-bag 
holding  her  Grace's  embroidery,  which  never  was  more 
than  begun ;  but  the  fact  remained  the  same, — it  had 
been  thrown  at  JYau  von  Berg's  head. 

Much  grieved,  she  put  her  handkerchief  up  to  her 
eyes  and  began  to  sob. 

"  Stop  crying !"  the  little  Princess  said,  imperiously. 

"You  know  it  drives  me  wild  to I  know  you 

well,  Alice ;  you  smiled  maliciously." 

"Great  heavens,  no!"  the  weeping  woman  rejoined. 
"I  was  thinking;  I  smiled  compassionately." 

"  I  do  not  want  your  compassion." 

"  Who  could  fancy  that  it  was  bestowed  upon  your 
Grace?  I  pity  the  Duchess;  she  seems  to  me  like  the 
lamb  who  invited  the  wolf  to  be  his  guest.  Her  High- 
ness idolizes  this  Claudine,  and Ah,  your  Grace,  it 

would  be  ridiculous,  were  it  not  so  sad,  to  see  any  one 
feeding  with  sugar-plums  a  bitter  enemy." 

The  Princess  made  no  reply.  She  was  seated  on  the 
broad  window-sill,  behind  the  chintz  curtain  ;  her  feet 
moved  incessantly,  while  her  eager  eyes  never  left  the 
small  piece  of  road  visible  on  the  other  side  of  the  park. 

"  How  can  I  help  it  if  people  are  blind  ?"  she  said  at 
last. 

"  I  thought  your  Grace  loved  the  Duchess  ?" 

"  Yes ;  she  is  good  and  childlike,  and  has  always  been 
fond  of  me.  But  mamma  says  she  is  overstrained,  and 
I  am  sure  she  showed  it  plainly  enough  to-day.  I  can 
do  nothing  for  her." 

The  clock  that  stood  on  top  of  the  antique  cupboard 
struck  seven.  The  Princess  noticed  it  with  impatience. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  197 

"  So  late  already  ?"  she  said.  "  The  Baron  forgets 
that  we  were  to  select  a  place  in  the  garden  for  dancing 
at  the  fete." 

"  Perhaps  her  Highness  has  requested  his  attendance 
in  her  drawing-room,"  Frau  von  Berg  observed.  "  Frau- 
lein  von  Gerold  sings  there  every  evening,  and  the 
Baron  is,  as  your  Grace  knows,  passionately  fond  of 
music." 

"  But  the  Duchess  knows  that  he  has  guests !"  the 
Princess  exclaimed,  with  flashing  eyes  and  a  menacing 
glance  at  her  tormentor. 

"  But  if  her  Highness  commands  ?"  was  the  rejoinder, 
in  a  tone  of  gentle  remonstrance. 

"  Commands  ?  We  do  not  live  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
My  cousin  might  finally  command  him  to  marry  her 
favourite." 

Frau  von  Berg  chimed  in  with  this  rather  grim  jest 
with  the  most  innocent  air  in  the  world :  "  Who  knows, 
your  Grace, — if  it  were  the  wish  of  that  favourite  ?" 

This  was  too  much  for  the  little  Princess.  She  ran 
across  the  room  and  angrily  seized  Frau  von  Berg  by 
the  shoulders  ;  her  face  was  quite  pale. 

"  Alice,"  said  she,  "  you  are  a  wicked  woman  ;  I  feel 
that  you  are  wicked  ;  you  would  like  to  torture  me. 
What  you  say  is  horrible,  but  it  is  not  impossible. 
Alice,  I  never  have  a  peaceful  moment.  I  wish  I  were 
dead,  like  my  sister.  She  was  at  least  happy  once  in 
her  life." 

"  But,  your  Grace, — a  mere  jest." 

"  No,  no ;  it  is  no  jest.  For  God's  sake  do  not  make 
a  jest  of  it !  I  do  not  know  what  I  could  not  do  with 
delight  if  she  were  away  from  here!  Why  did  she 
not  go  with  the  Dowager  Duchess  to  Switzerland  ? 
Why  must  she  stay  here  ?" 

17* 


198  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Yes,  why  ?"  asked  Frau  von  Berg,  kissing  Helena's 
hand.  "  Poor  child  !"  she  sighed. 

"  Ah,  Alice,  can  you  not  think  of  some  way  ?  Tell 
me  of  one.  I  cannot  endure  this  uncertainty  any 
longer !"  whispered  the  passionate  girl. 

"Ah,  your  Grace,  what  can  I  do?  Unless  some 
chance  should  open  her  Higbness's  eyes." 

"  Some  chance  ?"  the  Princess  repeated,  bitterly. 

"  How  else  ?  .  There  is  no  single  soul  sufficiently  de- 
voted to  her  Highness  to  do  her  so  kind  a  service." 

"  "Wonderfully  kind  it  would  be !"  the  Princess  re- 
joined, sarcastically.  "  Why,  it  would  be  work  for  an 
executioner,  Alice,  for  I  believe  as  truly  as  that  I  stand 
here  that  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  in  this  affair 
would  break  Elizabeth's  heart." 

"  Your  Grace  would  rather  look  on  and  see  the 
noblest  and  best  of  human  beings  systematically  de- 
ceived ?  I  must  confess  that  our  views  as  to  what 
constitutes  friendship  differ  widely,"  replied  Frau  von 
Berg,  reproachfully. 

"  Did  you  never  love  any  one  so  very  dearly,  Alice, 
— so  very  dearly  that  you  would  rather  have  died 
than  lose  them?  B.ut  you  need  not  answer;  I  know 
you  never  did.  Where  others  have  a  heart  you  have 
only  a  vacant  place.  Do  not  look  at  me  so ;  the  Duchess 
shall  never  be  enlightened  by  me,  Alice.  Moreover,  I 
never  assert  what  I  do  not  know  positively,  and  here 
satisfactory  proof  is  lacking." 

Frau  von  Berg  smiled  and  stroked  the  Princess's 
hair,  while  a  tear  glittered  in  her  eye. 

"How  could  a  heart  of  such  childlike  purity  believe 
in  such  guilt?"  she  said,  softly.  "It  would  not  admit 
the  proofs  to  be  such." 

The  Princess  shook  off  her  hand.      "  Pray  do  not 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  199 

speak  so, — as  if  you  had  your  pockets  full  of  them," 
she  said,  annoyed  at  being  touched. 

"My  pockets  are  not  full  of  them,  'tis  true;  one 
proof  suffices  for  me,  your  Grace." 

The  young  Princess's  face  was  dyed  with  a  burn 
ing  blush.     "It  is  not  true,"  she  stammered.      "No 
woman  is  so  destitute  of  honour  as  to  feign  friendship 
where  she  is  practising  treachery.     You  are  terrible, 
Alice !" 

"  Oh,  your  Grace  does  not  know  the  world." 

The  Princess  suddenly  put  her  hand  to  her  forehead 
and  ran  into  her  bedroom ;  the  door  closed  with  a  crash 
behind  her  fairy  figure.  Frau  von  Berg  was  left  alone 
in  her  comfortable  apartment.  She  looked  towards 
the  door,  and  a  smile  hovered  upon  her  lips.  Then  she 
took  from  her  pocket  a  note,  which  she  contemplated 
affectionately.  "  Here  it  is,"  she  whispered.  It  had 
already  exercised  its  magic  power.  In  her  boudoir  her 
Grace  the  Princess  Thekla  was  writing  to  her  Highness 
the  Dowager  Duchess  a  letter  filled  with  virtuous  in- 
dignation. 

In  the  next  room  passionate  sobs  were  audible.  Frau 
von  Berg  left  her  apartment,  to  return  immediately 
with  fresh  water  and  raspberry  syrup,  after  which  she 
unceremoniously  entered  Helena's  bedroom.  "  Your 
Grace  must  compose  yourself,"  she  gently  entreated  as 
she  mixed  the  cooling  drink.  She  kneeled  beside  the 
weeping  young  creature,  who  was  seated  upon  the 
lounge  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  "  We  must  bathe  these 
eyes,"  she  went  on.  "  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  the  Baron 
has  just  driven  into  the  court-yard.  The  pictures  of 
costumes  for  the  fancy  fete  are  on  the  table,  with  a 
number  of  exquisite  patterns  from  M.  Ulmont." 

The  Princess  rose,  and  allowed   Frau  von  Berg  to 


200  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

arrange  her  hair  and  bathe  her  eyes.  "  Do  I  look  as 
if  I  had  been  crying?"  she  asked. 

"  No,  no ;  charming  as  ever,"  was  the  reply. 

The  dinner-bell  sounded  clearly  from  below,  and  a 
few  minutes  afterwards  the  Princess  flew  down-stairs, 
as  if  eager  to  lose  no  second  of  a  delightful  hour ;  her 
eyes  sparkled,  a  smile  parted  her  lips.  At  the  open 
doors  of  the  dining-hall,  in  which  candles  were  light- 
ing up  the  shining  table,  stood  Beata  in  the  rustling 
gray-and-black-striped  silk  which  she  now  regularly 
donned  for  dinner. 

"  My  brother  begs  your  Grace  to  excuse  his  absence ; 
his  Highness  requested  his  attendance,  and  the  carriage 
has  just  returned  without  him,"  she  said,  with  a  slight 
courtesy,  and  in  the  hard  voice  which  she  could  use  at 
will. 

The  delight  in  the  Princess's  face  faded ;  she  sat 
silent  beside  Beata.  The  old  Princess  remained  in  her 
room  on  the  plea  of  a  sudden  attack  of  headache. 
Countess  Moorsleben  with  difficulty  suppressed  a  yawn ; 
the  chamberlain  conversed  in  an  undertone  with  Frau 
von  Berg,  otherwise  there  was  not  a  sound  except  the 
low  clatter  of  the  plates,  or  Beata's  voice  as  loud  and 
clear  as  ever.  Once  she  addressed  the  Princess,  who 
looked  at  her  without  replying,  and  before  the  dessert 
was  served  rose,  and,  signing  to  the  Countess  to  stay 
where  she  was,  ran  out  into  the  garden  like  a  way- 
ward child.  When  she  returned  to  her  room  a  couple 
of  hours  afterwards,  her  hair  was  damp  with  dew  and 
her  eyes  were  swollen.  These  eyes  did  not  see  what 
was  actually  before  them ;  what  they  perceived  was  a 
spacious  apartment,  where  at  the  grand  piano  was 
seated  a  beautiful  girl,  about  whose  fair  hair  the  candle- 
light threw  a  halo.  And  as  she  sang  one  listened 


THE  OWUS  NEST.  201 

whose  heart  was  enthralled  against  his  will  by  the  soft, 
sweet  tones.  Oh,  it  was  enough  to  drive  one  mad ! 

''  Send  Frau  von  Berg  here,"  she  said  to  the  maid, 
"  and  do  not  light  the  candles." 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  the  stately  woman's  train 
rustled  across  the  threshold  of  the  dark  room,  and  the 
Princess's  trembling  little  hand  sought  Frau  von  Berg's. 

"  The  proof,  Alice, — give  it  to  me,"  was  whispered,  in 
faltering  accents. 

"  Here,"  the  lady  replied,  coolly,  and  put  the  treach- 
erous note  into  the  extended  hand.  "It  is  scarcely 
worth  the  trouble  of  reading.  Throw  it  away,  your 
Grace,  when  you  have  read  it." 

"  Thank  you,  Alice ;  you  can  go  now." 

The  Princess  went  into  her  bedroom  and  read  by 
the  light  of  the  hanging-lamp.  "  In  spite  of  this  a 
friend?  Poor  Liesel!"  she  whispered.  She  made  as 
if  she  would  tear  up  the  note,  but  paused.  The  blood 
rushed  to  her  head;  she  breathed  heavily.  The 
room  was  still  pervaded  by  the  sultriness  of  the  day; 
through  the  open  window  came  the  sweet  intoxicating 
fragrance  of  the  linden-blossoms,  intoxicating  as  the 
yearning  for  happiness  that  filled  the  girl's  heart.  She 
would  grasp  this  happiness  at  any  price,  even  at  the 
greatest !  With  trembling  fingers  she  folded  the  note 
as  small  as  possible  and  shut  it  up  in  a  little  golden 
case  which  she  wore  around  her  neck.  It  contained 
the  miniature  of  a  man ;  she  had  secretly  taken  it 
from  her  sister  when  that  sister  was  betrothed  to 
Lothar.  It  was  her  most  profound  secret. 

"  Only  in  case  of  necessity,"  she  whispered,  as  she 
concealed  the  medallion  again. 


202  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  shook  her  head  amazed  in  its 
red-ribboned  cap.  The  change  that  had  come  over 
the  Paulinenthal,  hitherto  so  lonely  and  deserted,  was 
marvellous  indeed !  Gay  dresses  enlivened  all  the 
woodland  paths,  and  merry  voices  resounded  j  it  seemed 
as  if  the  entire  city  had  chosen  this  special  part  of  the 
country  for  its  picnics.  Numerous  were  the  elegant 
equipages  that  had  lately  driven  past  the  Owl's  Nest, 
and  in  the  neighbouring  village  there  was  not  an  egg 

to  be  had.  Everything  was  absorbed  by  B ,  the 

tiny  watering-place  a  few  leagues  distant,  which,  ac- 
cording to  the  forester's  wife,  swarmed  with  guests  this 
year.  Even  the  smallest  cottages  in  the  place  were 
rented,  and  the  host  of  '  The  Trout'  was  ready  to 
burst  with  pride ;  he  had  two  Counts  with  their  families 
in  his  first  story,  and  his  back  rooms  had  been  taken 
by  a  Frau  von  Steinbrunn  with  two  daughters,  and 
every  one  had  a  carriage,  and  there  was  a  perpetual 
driving  to  Altenstein  and  Neuhaus. 

Yes,  the  swarm  of  courtiers  had  followed  the  reign- 
ing family  as  the  tail  with  its  myriad  bobs  follows  the 
kite.  This  year  the  first  society  of  the  capital  dis- 
covered the  incomparable  beauty  of  their  own  moun- 
tains, so  different  from  Switzerland  or  the  Tyrol,  from 
Ostend  or  Norderney.  Those  who  had  left  this  part 
of  the  country  returned  to  it.  There  was  much  eager 

animation  in  the  primitive  dining-room  of  the  B 

inn,  where  the  portraits  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  in 
staring  colours  adorned  the  whitewashed  walls,  where 
they  sat  on  pine  chairs  at  small  tables  and  ate  very  dry 
veal  cutlets,  with  baked  plums  for  a  compote,  and  drank 
doubtful  red  wine.  Was  there  not  a  prospect  of  picnics 
in  the  forest?  of  croquet  and  lawn-tennis  in  the  Alten- 
stein park  ?  The  Duchess  was  said  to  have  talked  of 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  203 

a  bal  champetre, — a  fancy  ball  in  the  moonlight  beneath 
the  oaks  of  the  castle  garden. 

This  summer  season  promised  an  uncommon  amount 
of  enjoyment  in  all  directions ;  in  addition  to  the  rest 
there  was  this  extremely  interesting  and  romantic 
friendship  between  her  Highness  and  the  beautiful 
Claudine  to  discuss ;  the  most  marvellous  things  were 
told  about  it. 

"  They  must  be  extremely  intimate,"  said  the 
Countess  X. 

"  They  appeared  lately  dressed  exactly  alike,"  Frau 
von  Steinbrunn  remarked. 

"Pardon  me,  that  is  not  the  case.  The  Duchess 
wore  red  ribbons  and  Claudine  von  Gerold  blue,"  was 
the  eager  correction  of  a  young  officer  in  civilian's 
clothes,  who  was  spending  his  leave  here  instead  of  at 
"Wiesbaden. 

"They  say  the  Duchess  actually  heaps  her  with 
jewels  and  trinkets ;  they  are  together  all  day  long, 
reading,  walking,  and  talking ;  they  probably  write 
verses  together.  The  Princess  Helena  told  Isidora 
Moorsleben  the  day  before  yesterday  that  they  called 
each  other  by  their  first  names,"  said  the  Countess 
Pansewitz. 

"  Impossible !     Incredible !" 

"  The  Gerolds  are  excessively  lucky." 

"  "What  does  his  Highness  say  to  it  all  ?"  the  pert 
voice  of  a  youthful  diplomatist  was  suddenly  heard  to 
ask. 

An  old  Excellency  with  a  white  head  and  a  dignified 
aspect  at  the  head  of  the  table  cleared  his  throat  and 
shook  his  head  disapprovingly. 

Popple  smiled  and  looked  at  one  another  significantly, 
silently  sipping  their  wine,  and  passing  around  once 


204  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

more  the  plates  of  fruit  which  had  before  been  declined. 
His  Excellency's  wife  began  after  a  pause  to  talk  of  the 
weather.  A  couple  of  Countess-mammas,  with  a  glance 
towards  their  daughters,  instantly  made  rejoinder,  and 
wondered  whether  it  would  be  fine  enough  to  climb  to 
the  '  lookout,'  one  of  the  best  points  for  a  view  in  all 
the  country  round.  And  when  dinner  was  over  the 
elder  ladies  got  together  in  a  group  and  whispered,  and 
shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  put  their  handkerchiefs 
up  to  their  mouths  to  hide  their  smiles. 

Hitherto  no  one  had  been  able  to  see  and  judge  for 
herself,  for  until  now  all  who  had  called  at  Altenstein 
in  their  concern  for  the  Duchess's  health  had  been 
obliged  to  content  themselves  with  inscribing  their 
names  in  the  book  that  lay  open  in  one  of  the  rooms 
on  the  ground-floor  of  the  castle.  But  there  were  re- 
ports flying  about ;  people  suspected  and  looked  wise. 
All  were  looking  forward  to  the  next  Thursday,  for 
it  might  be  confidently  asserted  that  the  royal  party 
would  be  present  at  Baron  Gerold's  fete,  when  surely  a 
certain  event  was  to  take  place, — nothing  less  than  the 
announcement  of  a  long-expected  betrothal. 

Yes,  it  would  be  very  interesting.  And  while  all 
these  suspicions  and  expectations  were  rife,  the  inmates 
of  Altenstein  and  Neuhaus  pursued  their  various  ways, 
apparently  undisturbed  by  them. 


The  Princess  Helena  was  sitting  in  the  garden  at 
Neuhaus,  and  beside  her  stood  little  Leonie's  very 
elegant  perambulator.  Her  Grace  played  the  part  of 
devoted  aunt  after  the  same  stormy  fashion  in  which 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  205 

she  carried  out  everything  that  it  came  into  her  head 
to  do.  She  dragged  the  little  girl  about  with  her  every- 
where ;  she  was  indefatigable  in  her  persevering  efforts 
to  teach  her  beloved  niece  the  word  '  papa' ;  but  the  shy 
black  eyes  stared  at  her,  while  the  wayward  little  mouth 
kept  tight  closed.  Her  Grace  was  not  aware  that  even 
the  youngest  child  soon  learns  to  read  the  faces  of  those 
about  it,  and  that  the  impatience  and  passion  of  her 
glance  frightened  the  poor  little  creature.  It  usually 
began  to  scream  after  a  little  while  spent  with  its 
aunt.  And  then  it  was  hugged  and  carried,  soothed  and 
kissed,  with  a  fervour  of  affection,  and  loaded  with  ex- 
travagant terms  of  endearment,  until  Beata  wrung  her 
hands  as  she  listened  in  her  own  room,  longing  to  have 
some  one  come  to  the  aid  of  the  poor  little  thing.  But 
who  could  ?  Lothar  sat  as  if  immured  in  his  study, 
whither  he  usually  betook  himself  when  the  meals 
were  ended.  The  Princess  Thekla  reclined  on  her 
lounge,  yawning,  or  wrote  letters ;  and  Frau  von  Berg 
— well,  she  only  confirmed  the  Princess  Helena  in  her 
extravagance ;  the  tall,  arrogant  woman  actually  grov- 
elled in  the  dust  before  her  childish  mistress. 

The  old  nurse,  who  usually  appeared  on  the  scene 
in  a  fright,  was  made  use  of  to  quiet  the  sweet  darling 
sufficiently  to  allow  of  her  being  handed  over  to  her 
aunt  again  until  she  should  begin  to  scream  afresh. 
Beata,  who  had  never  known  until  now  what  it 
meant  to  have  nerves,  experienced  at  this  time  an  ex- 
traordinary tingling  in  her  finger-ends  ;  her  ears,  she 
affirmed,  burned  continually,  and  once  she  even  found 
herself  on  the  verge  of  tears.  It  was  before  the  fete, 
when  Lothar  declared  that  it  was  a  matter  of  perfect 
indifference  to  him  how  she  arranged  it.  There  she 
was,  never  having  had  anything  in  her  life  to  do  with 

18 


206  THE  OWL'S  JHEST. 

such  matters,  left  to  attend  to  the  programme  for  the 
concert,  the  order  of  the  dances,  and  the  cotillon.  She 
came  very  near  going  to  the  man  pacing  his  cool,  dark 
room  to  and  fro  so  silently  and  so  lost  in  thought  and 
telling  him  the  wholesome  truth  :  "  You  are  the  master 
of  this  house,  and  if  you  invite  guests  here  you  ought 
to  have  the  patience  necessary  for  the  part  of  host." 

But  before  she  opened  her  lips  he  turned  to  her  a  face 
so  pale  and  so  distressed  that  she  was  startled.  She  had 
been  so  busy  of  late  that  she  had  not  observed  him. 

"Mercy  upon  us,  Lotharl"  she  said,  approaching 
him,  "  are  you  ill  ?" 

"  No,  no !" 

"  Then  you  are  worried." 

"  Worried  as  a  man  must  be  who  has  laden  a  frail 
vessel  with  all  that  he  possesses,  his  every  hope  for  the 
future,  and  who  sees  it  far  from  shore,  at  the  mercy  of 
the  waves  and  the  tempest,  while  he  stands  powerless 
to  save,  and  knows  that  its  ruin  means  misery  and 
despair  I"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

"But,  Lothar!"  exclaimed  Beata,  dismayed.  He  was 
not  wont  to  speak  in  metaphor  and  with  so  bitter  an 
emphasis.  In  what  was  almost  a  tone  of  entreaty  she 
said,  "Confide  in  me,  Lothar;  explain  yourself.  You 
distress  me !" 

"  Oh,  it  is  nothing,  nothing,  Beata  ;  do  not  mind  it ; 
it  escaped  me  involuntarily.  All  will  be  well  when — 
when  Neuhaus  is  once  more  quiet  and  lonely.  Bear 
with  me." 

But  his  sister  persisted.  "  Lothar,"  she  began  reso- 
lutely, although  she  felt  a  pang  at  her  heart,  "  I  think 
you  men  are  in  certain  cases  slow  of  comprehension. 
I  believe  this  time  that  you  have  only  to  stretch  out 
your  hand." 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  207 

"  No,  my  sapient  little  sister,  not  this  time,"  he  re- 
plied. "  Above  my  open  hand  another  is  extended, 
confident  of  victory,  and,  seeing  this,  I  have  quietly 
withdrawn  my  own  and  clinched  it.  Do  not  question 
me  further,  and  let  me  alone,  Beata." 

"  You  are  the  same  foolish  boy  you  always  were," 
she  murmured,  and  turned  away.  "  Goc-d  heavens !  she 
runs  after  you  like  your  Diana  there."  And  she  pointed 
to  his  dog,  who  sat  watching  Lothar's  movements  with 
eyes  of  affectionate  intelligence. 

She  went  out  into  the  hall,  where  she  frowned  as 
she  observed  the  Princess  Helena,  in  a  light  morning- 
gown,  followed  by  the  Countess,  descending  the  broad 
staircase  to  disappear  in  the  garden.  As  she  passed 
the  door  of  Lothar's  apartment  the  girl's  black  eyes 
rested  there  as  if  they  would  have  pierced  the  oaken 
panels,  and  Beata's  heart  was  stirred  with  anger. 
What  did  he  mean?  She  could  not  show  more  plainly 
— she  showed  it  far  too  plainly,  in  Beata's  opinion — 
that  he  was  beloved.  Those  bold,  passionate  eyes,  the 
Princess's  flighty,  nervous  demeanour,  were  inexpressi- 
bly disagreeable  to  her.  God  only  knew  what  she  had 
taken  into  her  head  now;  cow-house  and  stable  were 
as  little  secure  from  her  as  was  the  nursery,  or  even 
the  family  burial-vault  at  the  other  end  of  the  park, 
the  key  to  which  she  had  lately  imperiously  demanded, 
that  she  might  place  wreaths  upon  the  coffins  of  Lothar's 
parents, — an  attention  which  was  unfortunately  entirely 
overlooked  by  their  son. 

Beata  shook  her  head  and  went  up-stairs  to  the 
large  mansard  room,  where  were  the  linen  presses  and 
chests.  There  she  sat  down  and  yielded  to  her  desire 
to  cry.  Was  it  a  good  for  which  he  was  thus  longing 
so  desperately  ?  That  high-born,  passionate  creature  I 


208  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Had  his  first  marriage  brought  him  happiness  ?  Why 
did  Lothar's  desires  soar  so  high?  She  thought  of 
his  future  at  Helena's  side;  of  the  forsaken  home  of 
his  fathers,  in  which  she  herself  would  stay,  alone  and 
lonely.  He  would  mingle  again  in  the  whirl  of  life  in 
the  capital,  travel,  as  he  had  been  wont  to  do  with  the 
first  wife,  and  now  and  then  come  hither  for  a  couple 
of  days — alone!  What  could  his  high-born  wife  do 
here  ?  Her  presence  here  now  was  intended  as  an  en- 
couragement. The  interest  she  feigned  in  the  house- 
hold of  his  ancestral  home  vras  only  a  proof  that  she 
would  gladly  condescend,  as  her  sister  had  condescended 
before  her. 

And  when  he  came  home  from  time  to  time,  the 
brother  and  sister  would  look  into  each  other's  eyes 
and  find  that  each  had  changed, — he  in  the  stifling 
atmosphere  of  a  court,  and  she  in  solitude,  yearning 
for  her  ideal  of  happiness. 

She  was  startled  at  the  sobs  which  she  could  not 
suppress;  she  set  her  teeth,  and  with  tear-dimmed 
eyes  opened  the  chest  which  stood  nearest  and  hastily 
took  from  it  rugs  and  embroidered  hangings.  They 
were  costly  affairs,  and  she  intended  to  have  the  hall 
decorated  with  them.  Joachim  had  collected  them  on 
his  travels,  these  Smyrna  rugs  and  Turkish  stuffs, 
and  she  had  bought  them  for  herself  at  the  auction. 
Gazing  at  their  wonderful  combination  of  colours,  the 
tears  coursed  down  her  quiet  face. 

What  was  the  matter  with  her?  She  had  never  be- 
fore known  herself  thus.  With  eager  energy  she  wiped 
away  her  tears,  and  forced  herself  to  think  of  cotillon 
favours  and  ribbons,  of  piles  of  porcelain  cups  and 
dishes,  of  a  hair-dresser,  of  ices,  of  milk  of  almonds, 
and  heaven  knows  what  besides,  and  finally  of  the  folly 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  209 

of  the  little  Princess's  idea  of  turning  a  simple  garden- 
party  into  a  masquerade  and  a  dance. 

She  hurried  down-stairs  again,  gave  orders,  sent 
messengers  hither  and  thither,  consulted  with  the 
gardener  and  the  housekeeper,  and  in  the  midst  of 
her  cares  came  Claudine's  and  Joachim's  refusal.  She 
had  hardly  expected  Joachim  to  come;  but  Claudine? 
Beata  instantly  sought  out  her  brother.  She  found 
him  in  the  garden  ;  he  was  with  the  Princess  Helena 
and  the  Countess  on  the  dancing-floor  that  had  been 
improvised  beneath  the  lindens.  The  carpenters  had 
just  finished  their  work,  and  a  couple  of  under-gar- 
deners  were  busy  decorating  the  rough  planks  of  the 
enclosure  with  evergreens,  and  festooning  the  pillars. 

"Lothar,"  she  began,  "Claudine  has  sent  a  refusal; 
will  you  not  ride  over  and  beg  her  to  come  ?" 

He  grew  still  paler  than  he  had  been  before.  "  No," 
he  replied,  curtly. 

The  Princess  Helena's  eyes  flashed ;  she  had  observed 
him  turn  pale. 

"  Then  I  will  drive  over,  if  you  will  let  me,"  said 
Beata. 

"  You  must  go  to  Altenstein,  then ;  you  will  hardly 
find  her  at  the  Owl's  Nest." 

"  I  shall  go  this  evening,  when  she  is  at  home,  and  I 
will  not  come  back  without  her  acceptance,"  rejoined 
Beata. 

"  You  seem  to  be  unfortunate,  Baron,"  said  the  Prin- 
cess, with  an  evil  glitter  in  her  eyes  ;  "  mamma  tells  me 
that  the  Duke  will  very  probably  not  be  present  at  your 
fete.  Her  Highness  mentioned  it  with  deep  regret  to 
mamma  in  a  note  she  wrote  her  about  her  dress." 

A  vein  in  the  Baron's  forehead  looked  swollen  ;  other- 
wise bis  face  wore  its  usual  expression  ;  he  was  eagerly 
o  18* 


210  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

watching  the  men,  who  were  fastening  small  red  and 
white  flags  to  the  pillars.  "  That  looks  well,"  he  said, 
calmly ;  "  does  it  not,  your  Grace  ?" 

The  little  Princess  nodded. 

"  Why  not  use  the  colours  of  your  house  ?"  she  asked, 
with  enchanting  amiability.  "  Yellow  and  blue,  alter- 
nating with  crimson  and  white." 

"  I  do  not  like  the  combination,"  he  replied  ;  "  the 
contrast  is  forced." 

Beata,  who  was  about  to  withdraw,  turned  away  in 
dismay.  But  the  Princess  smiled ;  perhaps  she  did  not 
agree  with  Beata  in  the  sense  she  attached  to  his  words. 

******* 

On  the  afternoon  of  this  day  Claudine  stood  beside 
her  brother's  writing-table  bidding  him  good-bye. 

"  You  wrote  my  refusal  ?"  he  asked. 

She  nodded:  "  Yours  and  mine.    Good-bye,  Joachim." 

"  Yours  ?"  he  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  Yes ;  I  do  not  care  for  such  fetes.  Do  not  be  vexed, 
Joachim." 

"  Vexed  ?  I  do  not  understand  you.  You  will  dis- 
appoint Beata  sadly." 

An  arch  smile  hovered  upon  his  sister's  lovely  face : 
"  Oh,  I  can  easily  appease  her.  Joachim,  I  want  to 
stay  here  on  that  day ;  you  cannot  imagine  how  I  look 
forward  to  an  afternoon  beneath  the  oak,  and  to  the 
evening  with  you." 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  her:  "Do  as  you  please, 
Claudine.  You  know  you  cannot  do  wrong  in  my  eyes." 

And  Claudine  went  down-stairs,  kissed  the  child,  who 
was  making  clothes  for  her  doll  under  Ida's  direction, 
and  looked  into  Frau  Lindenmeyer's  room.  The  old 
lady  was  asleep  in  her  arm-chair.  Claudine  softly  closed 
the  door  and  slipped  out  into  the  garden,  where  the 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  211 

ducal  equipage  was  waiting  at  the  gate.  In  little  more 
than  half  an  hour  she  was  sitting  beneath  the  oaks  in 
the  garden  at  Altenstein,  reading  aloud  to  the  Duchess 
from  Joachim's  work,  'Spring  Days  in  Spain.'  The 
story  of  his  love  was  charmingly  interwoven  with  vivid 
descriptions  of  the  country. 

"  Claudine,"  the  Duchess  interrupted  her,  "  she  must 
have  been  charming, — your  little  sister-in-law.  Tell  me 
about  her." 

The  girl  fixed  her  blue  eyes  upon  the  speaker.  "  She 
was  something  like  you,  Elizabeth,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  you  flatterer!"  said  the  Duchess;  "  but  that  re- 
minds me, — forgive  me  for  interrupting  such  interesting 
reading  with  a  question  of  dress.  What  if  I  should 
take  a  mantilla  and  a  fan  and  go  as  a  Spaniard  to 
Neuhaus  ?  I  think  it's  an  excellent  idea.  And  you, 
Dina?" 

"  I — I  have  declined,  Elizabeth." 

The  Duchess  looked  sorry.  "What  a  pity!"  she 
said,  slowly  and  thoughtfully.  "  The  Duke  has  declined, 
too." 

Claudine's  pale  face  suddenly  flushed  crimson.  Her 
friend  looked  at  her  anxiously. 

"  Are  you  too  warm  ?" 

"  Why  does  his  Highness  not  accept  ?"  Claudine 
asked,  evasively. 

"  He  gave  me  no  reason,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Elizabeth,"  said  the  girl,  hastily,  "  if  you  command 
it  I  will  recall  my  refusal ;  1  can  easily  do  so  with 
Beata." 

"I  do  not  command,  but  it  would  please  me  very 
much,"  said  the  Duchess,  with  a  smile. 

"  Then  dismiss  me  an  hour  earlier ;  I  should  like  to 
tell  Beata  myself." 


212  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Of  course,  much  as  I  dislike  to  have  you  leave  me. 
But  tell  me  why  you  did  not  want  to  go  to  Neuhaus. 
I  cannot  imagine,  Claudine,  that  you  attached  such  im- 
portance to  Helena's  pettishness  that  you  would  visit 
it  upon  your  relatives." 

As  she  spoke  the  Duchess  took  her  friend's  hand,  and 
tried  to  look  into  the  blue  eyes. 

But  the  long  dark  eyelashes  were  not  raised,  and 
again  the  crimson  flush  dyed  the  cheeks  below  them. 

" No,  no,"  she  said,  eagerly,  "it  is  not  that.  I  had 
promised  Joachim  to  spend  a  quiet  evening  with  him; 
I  thought  you  would  not  miss  me  amid  the  brilliancy 
and  noise  of  the  fete" 

"  I  never  feel  more  lonely  than  when  I  am  in  the 
midst  of  a  crowd,"  the  Duchess  said,  softly,  detaining 
in  hers  the  hand  that  Claudine  would  have  withdrawn 
from  her  clasp. 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  Elizabeth." 

"  Willingly  ?  I  will  not  let  you  go  until  you  tell 
me." 

"Yes," — it  was  said  hesitatingly,  and  she  leaned  her 
cheek  towards  the  Duchess's.  "  Yes,"  she  repeated, 
"  because  I  love  you  dearly." 

The  Duchess  kissed  her:  "As  I  do  you,  Dina! 
Since  the  time  of  my  betrothal  I  have  not  felt  so 
content,  so  glad  as  I  do  when  I  am  with  you.  And 
the  best  of  it  is  that  friendship  rarely  disappoints  as 
love  does ;  the  happiness  it  yields  is  more  calm." 

Claudine  looked  searchingly  into  her  friend's  eyes. 

"  Yes,  yes,  love  and  marriage  bring  us  various  expe- 
riences, little  trials,  little  disappointments.  Remem- 
ber, Claudine,  all  the  ideal  expectations  with  which  a 
girl  of  eighteen  goes  to  the  altar.  But,  my  child,  I  am 
the  happiest  of  wives,  because  he  loves  me.  To  know 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  213 

one's  self  beloved,  to  have  perfect  confidence  in  a  hus- 
band's faith  and  affection,  is  supreme  bliss  for  a  woman  ; 
and  to  lose  this  confidence  would  be  to  me  far  worse 
than  death  itself." 

She  went  on  talking,  while  the  book  lay  neglected 
in  Claudine's  lap,  of  her  first  meeting  with  her  husband, 
of  the  ardent  affection  she  had  conceived  for  him,  of 
her  ecstasy  when  they  told  her  he  had  sought  her  in 
marriage ; — how  she  had  clasped  her  hands,  and  asked, 
tremblingly,  "Me?  Does  he  woo  me?"  She  told  how 
she  had  written  to  him  daily  during  the  brief  period  of 
her  betrothal,  how  intense  had  been  her  happiness  and 
pride  when,  after  their  marriage,  she  had  gone  out  on 
the  balcony  of  her  father's  castle  to  show  her  gallant, 
handsome  husband  to  the  thousands  who  filled  the  publio 
square  below,  and  how  then,  in  an  unpretentious  car- 
riage, they  had  driven  secretly  through  the  lovely  night 
in  spring  to  a  quiet  little  castle  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
capital,  where  they  were  to  spend  their  honeymoon. 

As  she  alighted,  her  train  had  caught  in  the  carriage, 
and  she  had  literally  fallen  at  her  young  husband's 
feet ;  they  both  laughed,  and  because  she  had  struck 
her  foot  he  had  carried  her  up  the  staircase  in  his 
arms,  through  the  empty  corridors,  in  which  the  lamps 
burned  but  dimly  to  their  rooms,  and  there  they  had 
sat  at  the  open  window  and  listened  to  the  nightin- 
gales in  the  park,  and  watched  the  lights  of  the  castle 
mirrored  in  the  little  lake,  and  the  warm,  damp  air  had 
been  filled  with  the  fragrance  of  violets. 

The  dark  eyes  of  the  young  wife  sparkled  in  recall- 
ing her  happiness,  and  when  just  at  this  moment  the 
elegant  figure  of  the  Duke  in  faultless  summer  array 
appeared  from  among  the  shrubbery,  her  pale,  sickly 
face  was  absolutely  transfigured. 


214  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

He  bowed  as  he  approached,  but  his  humour  was 
evidently  none  of  the  gayest. 

"Do  I  intrude?"  he  asked.  "Of  course  you  are  dis- 
cussing costumes.  'Tis  a  nonsensical  idea, — a  fancy- 
dress  fete" 

"  Good  heavens,  yes !"  exclaimed  the  Duchess.  "  Clau- 
dine,  where  will  you  get  your  dress  in  such  a  hurry  ?" 

"  I  have  a  whole  wardrobe-full  of  my  grandmother's 
gorgeous  gowns,"  she  replied ;  "  I  am  sure  there  will  be 
something  among  them  that  will  suit  the  occasion." 

"  The  gentlemen's  dress-coats  will  contrast  extremely 
well  with  all  these  gypsies  and  powdered  dames," 
sneered  the  Duke.  "  Of  course  it  is  a  whim  of  He- 
lena's,— that's  very  clear." 

"Why  will  not  you  come,  Adalbert?  Do  join  us. 
Why  refuse  to  do  Gerold  this  favour  ?  You  used  to 
spoil  him  in  every  way,"  the  Duchess  begged. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  cannot  arrange  it," 
he  said,  curtly,  and  began  to  talk  of  something  else. 

"  Well,  then,  Claudine,  we  must  be  content  with  each 
other;  I  in  a  Spanish  costume,  and  you ?" 

"In  an  unbecoming  dress  of  the  Empire,  your  High- 
ness ;  short  waist,  narrow  skirts,  and " 

"  I  beg  pardon.  Unbecoming  that  dress  is  not,"  the 
Duke  interposed.  "  Quite  the  contrary.  But  it  requires 
a  faultless  figure  and  a  certain  grace  of  carriage.  Ee- 
member  the  enchanting  picture  of  Queen  Louise,  and 
the  portrait  of  my  own  grandmother,  the  Duchess 
Sidonie,  in  the  gallery  of  our  castle."  He  kissed  his 
finger-tips.  "  The  fashion  was  a  charming  one." 

Claudine  made  no  reply.  The  Duchess  talked  about 
other  matters,  the  Duke  took  his  leave,  and  Claudine 
went  on  reading. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  * 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  215 

It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock,  and  the  day  bad  not  yet 
died  on  the  mountain-tops,  when  she  drove  to  Neuhaus. 
Herr  von  Palmer  was  standing  behind  the  curtains  at 
bis  window,  wben  be  beard  the  carriage  drive  out  of 
the  court-yard.  He  twisted  bis  long  dyed  moustache 
with  slender  fingers  that  gleamed  white  in  the  twilight. 
He  knew  that  the  arrow  was  fitted  to  the  string,  that 
the  bow  was  bent ;  but  one  impulse  was  needed,  and  a 
poor  human  heart  would  be  stricken  to  death,  'made  im- 
possible,' as  he  expressed  it.  It  was  a  necessity,  and  it 
was  high  time ;  this  friendship  was  getting  the  upper 
band  ;  the  Duchess  treated  him  shamefully, — worse  than 
before, — and  he  knew  whence  that  wind  blew.  If  the 
arrow  should  graze  her  too,  it  would  serve  her  right. 
Ridiculous  for  Berg  to  say  that  the  little  Princess  was 
afraid  on  her  Highness's  account;  such  natures  are 
tough. 

"  A  superb  idea,  that  of  making  her  little,  jealous 
Grace  the  one  to  send  the  dart! — grand,  grand!"  he 
murmured  admiringly,  pacing  the  room  to  and  fro.  "  It 
needed  a  woman's  brain  to  arrange  that.  The  effect 
will  be  immense, — immense,  my  fair  Claudine.  The 
halls  of  the  ducal  castle  in  the  capital  will  know  you 
no  more.  You  will  be  powerless  to  harm.  Lothar 
does  not  waste  a  thought  upon  her,  fool  that  he  is  with 
his  aspiring,  wooings;  how  Berg  can  imagine  that  I 
can't  conceive.  The  Duke,  however,  may  spend  any 
amount  of  thought  upon  her, — let  her  Highness's  sus- 
picions be  once  aroused,  nothing  will  avail  the  lovers. 
Parted  forever!  As  for  who  shall  next  find  favour  in 
his  Highness's  eyes,  that  will  depend  upon  me.  The 
Berg  is  still  handsome  enough,  and  old  love  dies  hard. 
She  loves  him  still,  and  would  further  my  plans  most 
intelligently." 


216  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

An  endless  vista  of  brilliant  hopes  dazzled  the  man's 
eyes ;  foremost  of  all  was  the  alluring  title  of  '  High 
Steward.'  His  paralytic  old  Excellency  von  Elben- 
stein,  whose  functions  Palmer  had  fulfilled  for  months, 
could  not  possibly  live  long ;  his  Highness  had  already 
let  fall  promising  hints.  Of  course  there  would  be  bad 
blood  in  certain  quarters  if  he,  a  foreigner  whom  his 
Highness  had,  so  to  speak,  picked  up  in  the  streets  of 
Cairo,  should  be  given  this  position.  He  smiled  again, 
and  whistled  a  few  bars  of  the  march  from  '  Fatinitza.' 
"  It  will  not  last  too  long,  gentlemen ;  I  must  enjoy 
life  while  I  can."  And  there  hovered  before  his  mental 
vision  Paris,  and  a  delightful  little  hotel  in  the  Champs- 
Elysees.  "  And  no  more  slaving  for  princes !  But 
Alice !  She  might  be  induced  to  live  there  too.  Nous 
verrons  /" 

He  took  his  hat  and  went  to  see  the  captain,  who 
had  just  brewed  a  bowl  of  punch ;  the  first  delicious 
fruit  had  arrived  from  the  ducal  forcing-houses. 


Claudine  left  the  carriage  at  the  end  of  the  Neuhaus 
linden  avenue ;  she  wished  to  reach  the  house  and 
Beata's  room  unobserved.  Avoiding  the  hall,  she  en- 
tered the  back  door  without  being  seen,  slipped  softly 
through  the  corridor,  and  tapped  lightly  at  the  door 
of  the  sitting-room.  A  step  crossed  the  room  inside 
and  the  door  was  opened. 

"  It  is  I,  Beata,"  she  whispered.  "  Do  I  disturb  you  ? 
I  came  for  only  a  moment." 

"Is  it  really  you!"  exclaimed  her  cousin,  drawing 
the  girl  into  the  room,  where  the  lights  were  not  yet 
lighted,  and  gently  forcing  her  into  a  chair. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  217 

"  No,  no,"  said  Claudine ;  "  I  only  wanted  to  tell  you. 
that  after  all  I  will  come  the  day  after  to-morrow,  if 
you  will  let  me." 

Beata  laughed  heartily  and  kissed  her.  "  There !" 
she  called  to  some  one  in  the  dark  room.  "  Which  was 
right,  Lothar?  There  was  no  need  of  my  drive." 

Claudine  was  startled ;  a  figure  came  forward  from 
the  darkness.  "  The  Duchess  desired  it,"  she  stam- 
mered. 

"  Her  Highness  is  extremely  kind,"  he  said,  and  his 
voice  sounded  hoarse.  "The  Duke  has  also  just  done 
me  the  honour  to  withdraw  his  refusal." 

Claudine  grasped  the  back  of  a  chair  for  support, 
but  said  not  a  word.  What  an  unlucky  chance ! 

"  But  sit  down,"  Beata  urged ;  "  we  see  and  hear 
nothing  of  each  other  nowadays.  Of  course  I  have 
very  little  time,  but,  since  you  are  here,  help  me  to 
arrange  the  places  at  table  ;  I  do  not  know  the  half  of 
these  people  who  have  accepted." 

"  Excuse  me,  Beata ;  I  have  a  headache,  and  the  car- 
riage is  waiting  at  the  end  of  the  avenue,"  the  girl 
said,  turning  to  go.  "Let  them  draw  lots,"  she  added, 
as  if  wishing  to  atone  for  her  rudeness  in  refusing  to 
assist  her  cousin. 

"  Certainly,"  Lothar  assented.  "  Chance  will  surely 
heed  devout  prayers  and  assign  a  prize.  Will  you 
allow  me  to  conduct  you  to  your  carriage  ?" 

Beata  looked  disappointed,  and  stayed  behind.  Lo- 
thar walked  beside  the  agitated  girl  through  the  lighted 
hall  and  out  into  the  garden.  Neither  uttered  a  syl- 
lable. 

The  entire  row  of  windows  on  the  first  floor  of  the 
castle  was  illuminated :  the  Princess  Helena  loved  a 
great  deal  of  light.  She  had  left  the  table  early, '  to  try 
K  19 


218  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

on  fancy  dresses.'  The  rays  from  the  windows  pene- 
trated some  of  the  recesses  of  the  shrubbery.  The 
odour  of  the  linden-blossoms  was  stifling,  the  summer 
evening  was  sultry;  the  moon  was  hidden  by  dark 
clouds. 

They  walked  on  quickly  side  by  side;  just  before 
them  a  shadow  glided  behind  one  of  the  tallest  trees  ; 
another  followed  it.  Lothar  did  not  perceive  them, 
but  Claudine  involuntarily  paused.  "  Do  you  see  noth- 
ing?" she  asked,  anxiously. 

"  No." 

"  It  must  have  been  an  illusion." 

She  hurried  on  to  the  carriage,  inclined  her  head 
with  a  cold  '  good-night,'  and  drove  off. 

The  noise  of  the  wheels  died  away  in  the  silent  gar- 
den ;  the  man  who  had  stood  looking  after  the  carriage 
walked  along  the  foot-path  outside  the  wall  of  the  park 
towards  the  forest,  as  if  to  lose  himself  and  find  repose 
in  its  lonely  depths. 

"Alice,"  the  Princess  Helena  whispered,  passionately, 
coming  from  behind  the  trunk  of  a  tree, — "Alice,  he 
has  driven  off  with  her!" 

"Your  Highness,  it  was  only  a  piece  of  courtesy." 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  bear  it,  Alice  1  What  is  she  doing 
here  ?  What  did  she  want  ?  Speak  to  me,  Alice !" 

The  agitated  whisper  had  grown  to  be  loudly-uttered 
words. 

"  Great  heavens,  your  Highness,"  Frau  von  Berg 
began,  as  if  unable  to  find  words  with  which  to  express 
her  surprise  and  pain,  "  what  shall  I  say  ?  I  am  utterly 
confounded!" 

The  Princess  hurried  off  to  the  gate  of  the  park; 
there  stood  an  old  stone  bench,  behind  which  she 
kneeled  on  the  ground  in  the  dark,  waiting,  waiting 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  219 

with  throbbing  pulses  for  his  return.  In  vain  did  Frau 
von  Berg's  voice  resound  through  the  dark,  sultry 
garden.  At  last  she  went  up  to  her  own  room  and 
smiled  into  the  tall  mirror  before  which  she  stood  to 
try  the  effect  in  her  abundant  hair  of  the  gay  kerchief 
which  she  was  to  wear  at  the  fete  as  part  of  her  Italian 
costume.  The  Princess  appeared  at  the  end  of  an  hour 
with  pale  cheeks  and  swollen  eyelids.  Not  a  moment 
did  she  sleep  that  night. 


The  fete  at  Neuhaus  was  at  its  height.  The  warm 
summer  evening,  with  no  breeze,  made  it  possible  for 
the  invalid  Duchess  to  remain  in  the  open  air.  The 
crimson  curtains  of  the  tent  pitched  beneath  the  lin- 
dens, not  far  from  the  dancing-floor,  were  thrown 
back ;  there  she  half  reclined  in  a  cushioned  chair,  sur- 
rounded by  a  crowd  of  ladies  and  gentlemen.  The 
strange  light,  compounded  of  twilight,  moonlight,  and 
the  rays  from  hundreds  of  coloured  lanterns,  caused 
her  pale  face  beneath  the  lace  mantilla  to  look  paler 
than  ever,  and  the  eyes  more  large  and  glowing.  She 
wore  a  short  scarlet  skirt  flounced  with  black  lace,  and 
a  black  Andalusian  jacket  embroidered  with  gold.  A 
white  bearskin  had  been  laid  on  the  ground  beneath 
her  feet,  in  their  small  black  satin  slippers  with  dia- 
mond buckles.  She  looked  positively  beautiful  this 
evening ;  she  knew  it,  the  Duke's  eyes  had  told  her  so, 
and  consequently  she  was  beaming  with  happiness. 

The  Princess  Thekla,  in  a  gray  moire  silk,  sat  beside 
her. 

The  most  charming  picture  was  presented  to  their 


220  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

view  beneath  the  boughs  of  the  lindens,  now  a  century 
old,  whose  leaves  showed  a  rich  emerald-green  in  the 
brilliant  illumination.  There  was  wealth  of  youth  and 
beauty, — gleaming  jewels,  snowy  shoulders,  brilliant 
colours,  and  strange  effects  of  light  and  shade.  Groups 
of  fantastic  figures,  seemingly  evoked  from  some  fairy 
realm,  were  bathed  in  the  bewildering  fragrance  of  the 
linden-blossoms,  and  around  them  the  electrifying  music 
of  one  of  Strauss's  waltzes  floated  on  the  air. 

"  This  is  like  a.  fete  at  Tiefurt  in  Goethe's  time,"  said 
the  Duchess. 

"Especially  when  one  looks  at  the  beautiful  Gerold. 
Only  look,  your  Highness,  at  that  figure, — absolutely 
classic  1  Wonderful !" 

The  speaker,  an  aristocratic  old  gentleman,  whose 
delicate  features  expressed  an  ecstasy  of  admiration, 
was  standing  behind  her  Highness's  chair,  watching 
Claudine. 

"  Oh,  yes,  my  dear  Count,"  the  Duchess  replied,  and 
her  eyes  sparkled  as  she  looked  at  her  favourite,  "  she 
is,  as  always,  the  star  of  the  evening." 

"Your  Highness  is  too  modest,"  said  Princess  Thekla, 
and  her  cold  gaze  in  the  same  direction  was  annihilating. 

Claudine  was  standing  on  the  grass  outside  the  gar- 
landed and  bedecked  dancing-floor.  The  old  Count 
had  not  said  too  much  ;  never  had  her  unique  beauty 
showed  to  such  advantage  as  on  this  evening  in  the 
costume  of  her  great-grandmother.  She  wore  her 
magnificent  fair  hair  gathered  into  a  knot  at  the  back 
of  her  head;  some  little  curls  strayed  over  her  neck 
and  above  her  brow;  a  delicate  diadem,  in  front  of 
which  sparkled  a  diamond  star,  crowned  her  beauti- 
ful head.  The  short  waist  revealed  superbly-modelled 
arms  and  shoulders  in  a  light  covering  of  shining  tulle. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  221 

A  short  skirt  of  some  white,  translucent  silken  stuff, 
its  broad  hem  embroidered  with  silver,  left  exposed  the 
Bmall  pink  satin  slippers  tied  with  crossed  pink  ribbons. 
And  this  airy  dress  was  completed  by  a  pale  pink  train 
of  heavy  silk  edged  with  a  broad  band  of  silver  em- 
broidery. Around  the  waist  and  tied  at  one  side  was 
a  broad  pink  sash  shot  with  silver,  and  a  bunch  of 
fresh  centifolia  roses,  the  favourite  rose  of  the  period, 
adorned  the  front  of  the  waist.  The  girl's  exquisite 
beauty  and  grace  were  set  off  by  the  antique  dress, 
which  had  been  worn  by  her  great-grandmother,  then 
lady-in-waiting  at  the  court  of  X ,  at  a,  fete  in  Wei- 
mar,— one  of  those  informal  witty  assemblies  in  which 
Karl  Augustus  and  the  Duchess  Amalie  so  delighted, 
and  which  were  made  luminous  by  an  immortal  talent. 

Yes,  there  were  attached  to  this  gown  memories 
never  to  be  forgotten !  That  train  had  swept  past 
Goethe  in  those  days  when  he  still  paid  '  endless' 
homage  to  Beauty.  He  had  spoken  rapturously  of 
the  young  Baroness's  eyes,  and  it  had  been  the  worthy 
woman's  lifelong  pride.  The  diary  was  still  extant  in 
which  she  had  written,  "Young  Goethe,  the  Duke's 
friend,  was  gallanting  about  with  every  pretty  face, 
and  made  me  a  very  amiable  speech  about  my  eyes." 
There  was  still  lurking  in  the  folds  of  this  gown  a  deli- 
cate odour  of  lavender,  the  perfume  of  that  gay,  witty, 
sparkling  past. 

Perhaps  it  intoxicated  his  Highness,  for  the  Duke 
had  been  standing  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the 
beautiful  girl,  who,  with  the  heavy  folds  of  her  train 
gathered  up  in  her  hand  as  if  ready  for  flight,  seemed 
to  be  restlessly  gazing  past  him  as  if  for  some  oppor- 
tunity to  escape.  The  two  were  left  alone  in  the  midst 
of  a  wide  circle  of  respectful  courtiers,  as  if  it  were 

19* 


222  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

intended  to  afford  his  Highness  every  chance  to  talk 
undisturbed  with  the  beautiful  Gerold.  And  yet  while 
all  were  apparently  occupied  only  with  themselves, 
jesting,  laughing,  chatting,  every  eye  was  casting 
stolen  glances  at  the  incomparably  lovely  creature  who 
was  so  strikingly  distinguished  by  the  ducal  homage. 

The  Princess  Helena,  who,  in  a  Greek  dress,  was 
dancing  a  quadrille  with  his  Highness's  adjutant,  per- 
ceived this  with  secret  joy  ;  she  turned  her  dark  head 
with  so  sudden  a  movement  that  the  gold  coins  fringing 
her  blue  velvet  cap  jingled  and  glittered  ;  she  was  re- 
solved to  see  how  the  Baron  regarded  this  public  tete- 
dtete.  He  had  been  standing  a  minute  ago,  leaning 
against  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  holding  a  glass  of  iced 
champagne,  having  just  clinked  glasses  with  two  or 
three  gentlemen  around  him.  Now  he  had  vanished. 
Helena  hastily  turned  to  look  towards  where  Claudine 
was  standing,  and  she  compressed  her  lips,  for  Baron 
Lothar  was  approaching  the  pair : 

"Pardon  me,  your  Highness.  Her  Highness  the 
Duchess  wishes  to  speak  with  Fraulein  von  Gerold. 
— May  I  have  the  honour,  cousin  ?" 

The  Duke  hastily  stroked  his  beard ;  he  was  in  the 
midst  of  a  detailed  description  of  certain  costumes  and 
modes  of  dressing  the  hair,  and  appeared  unwilling  to 
be  interrupted. 

Claudine  courtesied  and  laid  her  finger-tips  upon  the 
offered  arm  of  Lothar,  who  slowly  conducted  her  to 
the  Duchess's  tent. 

"  Go  to  her  Highness  for  a  moment,"  he  said,  calmly. 
"  It  might  else  create  surprise.  Afterwards " 

She  paused  and  looked  into  his  unmoved  face :  "  I 
thought  her  Highness  wished  to  speak  with  me  ?" 

"  No,"  he  replied,  composedly  ;  "  but  I  saw  you  were 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  223 

on  tenter-hooks,  and  that  a  hundred  prying  eyes  were 
on  you.  Besides,"  he  went  on,  "  since  I  must  see  you 
here  among  these  people  this  evening,  I  would  fain  ad- 
mire you  near  your  friend.  Surely  your  blond  beauty 
beside  yon  Andalusian  would  be  the  most  charming 
picture  of  the  evening.  Gratify  us  with  it." 

She  withdrew  her  hand  from  his  arm.  The  relief 
she  had  felt  in  obeying  his  summons  gave  place  to  hot 
indignation.  She  made  no  reply,  but  went  instantly  to 
the  Duchess. 

"  Claudine,"  said  her  Highness,  holding  out  a  hand 
to  her,  "  why  do  you  not  dance?  I  should  like  to  see 
you  in  that  quadrille.  I  think  a  vis-d-vis  is  lacking  to 
a  couple  there. — Herr  von  Gerold,  pray.  " 

Claudine  could  not  refuse  ;  mechanically  she  took 
his  arm  ;  a  place  was  quickly  found  for  the  host  with 
his  partner.  They  stood  opposite  the  Princess  Helena 
and  the  captain.  Lothar  was  silent;  they  were  a 
strangely-mute  couple,  as  well  as  the  handsomest  in 
the  assemblage. 

The  Princess's  sky-blue  satin  skirt  swept  rustling 
past  Claudine  in  the  dance,  a  trembling  icy  little  hand 
touched  her  own ;  she  scarcely  noticed  it.  Only  once 
did  she  look  into  the  face  of  the  Princess,  encountering 
as  she  did  so  a  look  of  mortal  dislike ;  those  black  orba 
fairly  pierced  her  own  eyes.  She  was  dismayed,  and 
glanced  in  inquiry  at  the  captain ;  he  returned  her 
glance  with  an  expression  eloquent  of  reproach.  She 
held  her  head  proudly  erect,  and  scarcely  was  the  dance 
concluded,  and  Lothar's  arm  offered,  when  she  asked, 
"  Where  is  Beata  ?" 

"  Probably  in  the  castle,"  he  replied. 

She  thanked  him  and  hurriedly  took  her  way  thither. 
Out  of  regard  for  the  invalid  Duchess,  tables  had  been 


224  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

set  in  the  spacious  hall  for  a  select  few ;  the  massive 
folding-doors  were  flung  wide  open,  affording  a  view 
of  the  illuminated  garden  ;  the  table  was  nestling,  as  it 
were,  in  an  orangery.  Joachim's  rugs  draped  the  walls 
effectively,  and  the  steps  of  the  fine  old  staircase  wore 
covered  with  costly  stuffs.  Prosaic  Beata  had  achieved 
a  masterpiece  of  decoration. 

She  herself  was  standing  repeating  her  instructions 
to  half  a  dozen  lackeys.  Claudine  could  not  but  smile 
as  she  observed  how  obedient  and  respectful  was  their 
demeanour  towards  the  simple  peasant-girl,  which  was 
the  modest  character  adopted  by  their  strict  mistress 
upon  this  occasion.  She  clapped  her  hands  merrily  at 
Bight  of  Claudine. 

"Upon  my  word,  my  dear,"  she  exclaimed,  "you  are 
uncannily  bewitching  in  your  Old-World  gown.  And 
how  well  it  has  kept !  the  silver  is  not  even  tarnished !" 

She  patted  her  cousin's  cheek,  kissed  her,  and,  point- 
ing to  the  glittering  table,  asked,  "  Is  it  all  right, 
Claudine  dear?  From  the  head,  where  her  Highness 
sits,  there  is  the  best  view  of  the  fireworks.  Your  place 
is  rather  low  down ;  those  twelve  covers  are  for  the 
Princesses  and  their  cavaliers.  The  rest  must  distrib- 
ute themselves  about  at  the  tables  in  the  garden  as 
chance  may  direct.  There  is  the  basket  with  the  lots ; 
I  took  your  advice." 

"Let  me  beg  you,  Beata,  to  leave  me  out  of  the 
company  at  the  ducal  table  I"  exclaimed  Claudine.  "  I 
would  far  rather  sit  elsewhere." 

"And  have  his  Highness  frown  at  me  all  the  rest  of 
the  evening  ?  No,  my  darling,  no  use  to  ask.  You 
must  swallow  the  bitter  pill.  Of  course  I  cannot  tell 
who  will  be  your  neighbour.  But  excuse  me :  I  must 
see  the  housekeeper." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  225 

"  Beata !"  cried  Claudine,  trying  to  grasp  the  peasant- 
girl  by  her  snowy  sleeve,  but  she  had  already  disap- 
peared behind  the  hanging  that  divided  the  corridor 
from  the  hall.  The  girl  was  left  alone,  and  stood  for  a 
moment  looking  out  into  the  garden,  longing  to  escape 
and  flee  along  the  stony  forest  paths  to  her  peaceful, 
secluded  home.  The  notes  of  a  waltz  came  floating 
towards  her ;  she  was  sick  at  heart.  She  knew  her- 
self perfectly  free  from  blame,  and  yet  she  was  pos- 
sessed by  a  sensation  of  distress  and  anxiety.  She  was 
aware  that  the  true  reason  for  the  Duke's  withdrawal 

of  his  refusal  was  that  the  Grand  Duke  of  Z , 

whom  he  wished  to  meet  at  the  nearest  railway  sta- 
tion, had  postponed  the  journey  which  led  him  to  pass 
that  way.  And  yet  she  had  perceived  so  strange  an 
expression  on  the  faces  of  all  the  courtiers, — a  look  of 
inquisitive  loyalty,  it  might  be  termed, — they  had  been 
so  eager  to  retire  when  the  Duke  had  approached  her, 
and  he  had  been  as  unkind  and  discourteous  as  possible, 
when  he  had  led  her  away  from  his  Highness. 

She  compressed  her  lips ;  again  the  bitter  smile  gave 
place  to  the  old  expression  of  coldness  and  pride. 

Suddenly  she  turned  and  listened.  A  peculiar  sound 
penetrated  even  the  strains  of  the  music;  she  could 
not  tell  whether  it  came  from  within  the  castle  or  from 
outside.  It  was  like  the  cry  of  some  animal  in  distress. 

But  now No,  it  was  the  voice  of  a  child,  and  it 

came  in  a  shrill  scream  from  above.  The  next  instant 
Claudine  flew  up  the  staircase,  hurried  along  the  broad 
upper  corridor,  and  entered  the  open  door  whence  the 
cries  proceeded. 

The  pink  light  from  the  hanging-lamp  lighted  the 
apartment  but  dimly.  At  first  Claudine  saw  nothing 
but  the  child's  large,  soft  playing-rug,  strewn  with 
P 


226  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

dolls  and  toys,  and  the  little  empty  bed,  its  curtains 
pulled  aside.  The  room  seemed  entirely  deserted;  the 
crying  had  ceased ;  nothing  was  stirring.  Claudine 
gazed  about  her  searchingly,  advanced  a  step,  and 
then  paused  aghast  with  horror.  There  at  the  open 
window — not  upon  the  inside  seat,  but  upon  the  stone 
sill  outside — crouched  the  child  1  Its  long  night-gown 
had  got  twisted  about  its  little  legs ;  it  had  probably 
grown  suddenly  frightened;  it  sat  there,  with  nothing 
between  it  and  the  depth  below,  gazing  with  tearful 
eyes  at  the  apparition  of  the  strange  lady.  The  slight- 
est motion  on  the  child's  part,  and  it  was  lost. 

The  girl  stood  breathless  for  an  instant, — there  was 
not  even  a  rustle  of  her  silken  train, — while  thought 
careered  with  lightning  speed  through  her  brain. 
Would  her  approach  terrify  the  child  ?  "  God  of  mercy, 
help  me!"  she  whispered. 

A  smile  suddenly  hovered  upon  her  lips ;  she  hastily 
loosened  the  bracelet  from  her  arm  and  dangled  it,  glit- 
tering and  attractive,  before  her,  while  she  advanced, 
first  one  step,  then  another.  And  now  she  clutched 
the  long  night-dress.  The  little  body  swayed  back- 
ward ;  there  was  a  feeble  cry,  but  the  strong  white 
arms  were  round  it,  and  the  next  moment  Claudine 
was  kneeling  with  the  terrified  little  creature  on  the 
carpet;  her  trembling  knees  had  refused  to  support 
her.  Half  fainting,  she  leaned  her  head  against  the 
corner  of  a  dressing-table,  while  her  large  blue  eyes 
looked  lustreless  from  her  ashy  face. 

Some  one  was  kneeling  beside  her,  as  terrified,  as 
pale,  as  trembling  as  herself;  two  hot  lips  were  pressed 
upon  her  hands  and  upon  the  child's  little  face. 

"  Lothar,"  she  murmured,  and  tried  to  rise. 

He  took  the  child  from  her,  carried  it  to  its  little 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  227 

bed,  and  then  returned  to  where  she  now  stood  erect, 
ready  to  pass  him  and  leave  the  room. 

"  Claudine !"  There  was  a  quiver  in  his  voice  as  he 
barred  her  way. 

"  It  was  almost  too  late,"  she  said,  with  an  attempt 
at  a  smile,  which  sat  but  ill  upon  her  ghastly  face. 

He  took  her  hand  and  led  her  to  the  little  bed. 
The  child  was  sitting  up  and  laughing ;  he  lifted  it  in 
his  arms  and  laid  its  face  against  the  girl's  pale  cheek. 

"Thank  her!"  he  said,  in  a  voice  full  of  emotion. 
"Your  father  dare  not  do  it." 

Claudine  saw  how  the  hands  trembled  that  held  the 
little  one,  and  she  lightly  kissed  the  childish  cheek. 

"  A  while  ago,"  she  said,  coolly,  "  I  was  vexed  with 
myself  for  having,  after  all,  accepted  your  invitation, 
cousin.  I  think  I  may  forgive  myself  now." 

A  painful  pause  ensued.  The  child,  with  a  laugh, 
clutched  at  the  star  in  the  fair  hair.  Claudine  had  to 
bend  her  head  to  loosen  the  tiny  hand ;  it  took  some 
time.  Outside,  a  rocket  mounted  hissing  into  the  air, 
the  sign  for  the  beginning  of  supper.  Music,  laughter, 
merry  voices,  grew  more  distinct,  and  a  crimson  light 
from  without  illumined  the  room. 

Claudine  went  to  the  mirror  to  rearrange  her  dis- 
hevelled curls.  She  did  not  see  the  passionate,  grieved 
glance  that  followed  her  from  those  dark  eyes,  nor  had 
she  seen  how,  a  few  minutes  before,  a  graceful  figure 
in  pale  blue  had  appeared  at  the  wide-open  door,  as 
if  wafted  there,  only  to  hurry  away  again  as  though 
it  had  been  aware  of  some  frightful  spectacle  in  the 
dim  room,  instead  of  a  charming  genre  picture  worthy 
of  Meissonier, — a  beautiful  girl  beside  the  Baron,  who 
held  in  his  arms  his  laughing  child. 

"  I  will  see  that  the  nurse  is  sent,"  said  Claudine,  as 


228  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

she  left  the  room;  "the  little  explorer  might  else 
escape  from  bed  again." 

At  that  moment,  however,  there  appeared,  not  the 
child's  nurse,  but  Frau  von  Berg. 

"  Have  the  kindness,  Frau  von  Berg,  to  remain  be- 
side Leonie's  bed  until  the  nurse — whom,  by  the  way, 
you  seem  to  have  in  excellent  training — returns  to  her 
post.  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  the  child  run  the 
risk  a  second  time  of  the  danger  which  it  has  just 
escaped,  of  falling  out  of  that  window."  He  spoke 
quietly,  even  ironically. 

Claudine  had  passed  hurriedly  into  the  corridor;  she 
did  not  see  the  dismay  in  the  face  of  the  fair  Italian, 
who,  at  a  few  desperate  whispered  words  from  the 
Princess  Helena  as  to  the  strange  spectacle  she  had 
witnessed,  had  come,  by  virtue  of  her  office,  to  investi- 
gate matters  in  the  nursery.  Claudine  had  reached  the 
end  of  the  passage  when  Lothar  overtook  her.  To- 
gether they  descended  the  staircase  leading  to  the  hall. 

A  murmur  of  admiration  ran  through  the  throng 
of  people  in  the  hall  and  among  those  standing  outside 
the  entrance,  so  lovely  was  the  picture  presented  by 
the  beautiful  figure  in  antique  costume,  slowly  stepping 
down  the  richly-decorated  staircase. 

"Magnifique!  Enchanting!"  murmured  the  Duke, 
and  his  look  grew  sad.  But  the  Duchess  beckoned 
with  her  bouquet  of  pomegranates. 

"  Claudine,"  she  said,  when  the  girl  stood  before  her, 
"  we  have  just  determined  to  draw  lots  too ;  why 
should  not  the  Duke  and  I  confide  in  chance  for  once, 
to-night  ?  Our  kind  hostess  has  had  our  names  added 
to  those  in  the  basket." 

And  when  Countess  Moorsleben,  with  a  coquettish 
courtesy  which  suited  well  her  pretty  rococo  costume, 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  229 

offered  the  silver  basket  containing  gilt-edged  cards 
inscribed  with  the  names  of  the  gentlemen  present  to 
her  Highness  for  her  choice,  she  gayly  drew  forth  from 
it  one  of  the  small  rolls.  Princess  Thekla  refused  to 
draw  lots ;  the  Princess  Helena's  hand  trembled  as, 
standing  just  behind  her  Highness,  she  put  it  into  the 
basket.  Apparently  the  Countess  was  about  carelessly 
to  overlook  Claudine,  but  the  Duchess  touched  her  on 
the  shoulder  with  her  bouquet,  and  she  was  obliged  to 
pause. 

"Dearest  Claudine,"  said  the  royal  lady,  "your  fate 
awaits  you."  And  Claudine  also  took  one  of  the  little 
billets. 

"  Do  not  read  it  yet,"  said  the  Duchess,  seeming 
greatly  interested  in  the  game.  Her  large  dark  eyes 
sparkled  kindly;  she  leaned  lightly  on  Claudine's  arm. 
"  Look,  Dina,"  she  said,  in  an  undertone,  "  how  curi- 
ously the  gentlemen  are  surveying  the  ladies!  Posi- 
tively, Adalbert  himself  is  glancing  in  comic  terror  at 
my  worthy  Katzeustcin.  How  funny  she  looks  as  Frau 
von  Goethe !" 

The  powdered  head  of  the  pretty  lady-in-waiting 
reappeared  here  and  there  amid  the  throng,  until  at 
last  she  held  the  little  silver  basket  aloft  empty,  and  at 
the  same  moment  the  band  began  the  overture  to  the 
'Midsummer-Night's  Dream.' 

The  ladies  were  to  conduct  to  table  the  cavaliers  ap- 
pointed them  by  lot.  Thus  it  had  been  arranged  by 
the  Princess  Helena.  The  rustle  of  opening  papers, 
mingled  with  the  soft  tones  of  the  music,  laughter,  and 
exclamations,  ensued. 

Her  Highness's  eyes  sparkled  merrily.  She  had 
found  upon  her  slip  of  paper  the  name  of  a  shy,  callow 
lieutenant. 

20 


230  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Well,  Claudine  ?"  she  asked,  looking  at  her  friend's 
paper.  "  Oh — his  Highness !" 

Claudine  turned  pale ;  the  hand  that  held  the  slip 
of  paper  trembled.  "  An  extraordinary  chance  1"  was 
uttered  in  a  low  whisper  just  behind  her. 

The  Duchess  turned  slowly  and  measured  the  Princess 
Helena  from  head  to  foot  with  a  cold  glance.  All  the 
innocent  enjoyment  had  vanished  from  her  face.  She 
silently  laid  her  hand  on  Claudine's  arm  and  drew  her 
through  the  throng,  which  parted  respectfully  to  allow 
her  to  pass. 

"Here,  Adalbert,"  she  said  to  the  Duke,  who  was 
standing  beside  Palmer, — "  here  is  the  companion  at 
supper  whom  kindly  chance  has  allotted  you. — Herr 
von  Palmer,  pray  find  Lieutenant  von  Waldhaus  for 
me :  he  has  fallen  to  my  share." 

Herr  von  Palmer  hurried  away.  The  Duchess  stood, 
her  smiling  face  hidden  in  her  bouquet,  beside  his 
Highness  and  Claudine,  until  a  slender  young  officer 
of  hussars,  breathless  and  blushing,  appeared  and 
bowed  low  before  her. 

In  a  few  seconds  the  moving  crowd  was  grouped 
about  the  tables;  a  broad,  glittering  stream  of  youth, 
beauty,  and  splendid  attire  issued  from  the  hall,  where 
the  Duchess  with  her  youthful  cavalier  presided  be- 
neath a  crimson  canopy,  into  the  garden.  They  sat  in 
the  bluish  moonlight  upon  the  steps,  which  were  cov- 
ered with  rugs,  or  beneath  the  lindens  in  the  reddish 
light  of  the  lanterns,  while  soft  music  sounded  through 
the  sultry,  fragrant  summer  night. 

The  Duke  turned  with  Claudine  towards  the  gar- 
den, pointing  to  a  dim  spot  beneath  the  lindens.  "  It 
is  too  warm  here  in  the  hall,"  he  declared.  On  the 
hall  steps  he  paused  and  looked  into  the  girl's  lovely 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  231 

face,  no  v  wearing  an  expression  of  painful  embarrass- 
ment. 

"  Great  heavens,  Fraulein  Claudine !"  he  said,  com- 
passionately, "  what  can  you  think ?  I  am  neither 

a  robber  nor  a  beggar,  and — you  have  my  promise. 
Do  not  grudge  me  this  innocent  enjoyment." 

She  walked  beside  him  mechanically  down  the  steps 
to  one  of  the  small  tables,  laid  for  only  four  people, 
beneath  the  lindens.  Her  long  pink  train  lay  in  the 
silver  moonlight  on  the  grass,  betraying  her  where- 
abouts ;  she,  herself,  now  stood  proudly  erect  behind 
her  chair  in  the  darkness. 

"  Eh !"  exclaimed  the  Duke,  suddenly  ;  "  there  is 
room  here,  Gerold." 

The  Baron  had  descended  the  steps  with  his  com- 
panion, the  gentle  young  wife  of  the  Landrath  von  N. ; 
he  looked  about  him  restlessly,  and  as  he  hurried  to- 
wards the  Duke's  table,  the  pretty  little  woman  at  his 
side,  in  green  tulle  embroidered  with  pearls,  and  with 
water-lilies  in  her  hair,  could  hardly  keep  pace  with 
him. 

"  His  Highness  summons  me,"  he  said. 

He  seemed  to  breathe  a  sigh  of  relief  as  he  held  the 
chair  for  his  companion  to  take  her  seat  at  the  table, 
and  beckoned  to  a  servant  passing  with  a  salver  of  re- 
freshments. 

To  the  little  Princess  chance  had  assigned  Herr  von 
Palmer.  She  sat  at  her  Highness's  table  in  the  hall, 
where  was  also  the  Princess  Thekla.  From  her  place 
the  Duchess  could  sie  the  table  at  which  her  husband 
was  supping ;  the  figures  of  the  four  people  there  were 
revealed  as  in  a  picture  by  Eembrandt.  Now  and  then 
she  raised  her  champagi.e-glass  and  drank  to  the  Duke. 
Baron  Lothar  rose  once,  and,  standing  on  the  hall 


232  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

steps,  toasted  their  Highnesses.  The  Duke  toasted 
the  ladies.  Princess  Helena's  eyes  glanced  continu- 
ally, with  a  positively  demonic  expression  in  them, 
towards  that  table  in  the  garden  ;  those  seated  at  it 
seemed  very  gay:  she  distinctly  heard  the  Duke's  sono- 
rous laughter. 

Sometimes  she  turned  and  looked  at  the  Duchess, 
observing  with  satisfaction  that  her  Highness's  gaze 
repeatedly  rested  upon  that  group ;  there  seemed  to  be 
a  troubled  inquiry  in  her  eyes,  although  her  lips  smiled 
and  her  mood  was  apparently  gayer  than  it  had  been 
for  a  long  time.  Those  about  her  shared  this  mood ; 
Frau  von  Katzenstein,  who  had  been  taken  to  supper 
by  a  young  squire,  especially  distinguished  herself  by 
her  dry  humour. 

At  dessert,  when  the  snapping  of  the  bonbons  was 
added  to  the  hiss  of  the  rockets,  the  Princess  Helena 
asked  Herr  von  Palmer  to  exchange  seats  with  her,  a 
request  instantly  complied  with,  and  she  took  the  place 
beside  the  Duchess.  Her  Highness  had  scarcely  spoken 
to  Palmer ;  all  her  conversation  had  been  for  her  youth- 
ful cavalier.  At  first  the  little  Princess  was  silent.  In 
spite  of  her  unconscionable  jealousy,  her  heart  beat 
quick  at  the  idea  of  what  she  meant  to  do.  Contrary 
to  etiquette,  she  emptied  several  glasses  of  champagne, 
Herr  von  Palmer  taking  good  care  to  see  that  her  glass 
was  kept  filled. 

There  was  wild  work  in  her  passionate,  wayward  little 
head  this  evening.  She  looked  into  the  garden  again ;  a 
bengal-ligbt  flashed  up  and  showed  the  woman  whom, 
she  hated  seated  beside  him  ;  they  were  not  talking  to 
each  other,  but  his  face  was  turned  towards  Claudine, 
as  if  to  enjoy  to  the  full  the  girl's  beauty  bathed  in 
that  flood  of  white  light.  Helena's  rebellious  blood, 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  233 

heated  by  the  wine  she  had  drunk,  mounted  to  her 
head  and  bewildered  her. 

"  Your  Highness,"  she  whispered,  leaning  towards 
her  just  as  the  Duchess  was  preparing  to  rise, — "  your 
Highness  1  Elizabeth,  heaven  knows  your  confidence 
is  too  implicit." 

Did  the  Duchess  hear  her  ?  She  rose  slowly  and 
with  dignity.  The  signal  for  leaving  the  table  was 
given,  chairs  were  pushed  back,  and  outside,  beneath 
the  dark  trees,  there  appeared  in  fiery  characters  an 
intertwined  A.  E.  surmounted  by  a  ducal  crown. 
The  company  poured  out  into  the  garden  to  dance 
again. 

"  Pray  send  the  Princess  Helena  to  me,"  the  Duchess 
said  to  her  cavalier,  as  after  a  moment  she  re-entered 
the  pavilion  near  the  dancing-floor.  She  had  thrown 
a  light  wrap  about  her  shoulders,  and  looked  as  if  she 
were  chilly.  She  did  not  sit  down ;  her  carriage  had 
been  ordered,  but  the  Duke  was  still  standing  beneath 
the  lindens,  talking  to  Claudine. 

Princess  Helena  appeared  immediately,  a  kind  of 
desperate  decision  in  her  air. 

"  Explain  yourself  more  clearly,  cousin,"  the  Duchess 
addressed  her  aloud,  making  a  sign  to  Frau  von  Kat- 
zenstein  to  withdraw.  There  was  now  no  one  else  in 
the  pavilion,  from  the  rosy  twilight  of  which  there 
was  an  outlook  into  the  moonlit  fete  through  the  parted 
curtains. 

"  Your  Highness,"  the  passionate  girl  exclaimed,  in- 
dignantly, "  I  cannot  endure  to  see  you  so  deceived." 

"Who  is  deceiving  me?" 

Once  more  all  that  was  good  and  noble  gained  the 
upper  hand  in  the  girl's  heart.  She  saw  how  the 
woman  before  her  struggled  to  be  calm ;  she  knew 

20* 


234  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

well  all  that  her  own  next  words  must  signify  to  that 
imperilled  life. 

"No  one!  no  one!"  she  gasped.  "Let  me  go,  Eliza- 
beth ;  send  me  away !" 

"  Who  is  deceiving  me  ?"  the  Duchess  asked  again, 
with  all  the  decision  she  could  command. 

The  Princess  clasped  her  small  hands  and  glanced 
towards  Claudine,  who  was  still  detained  by  the  Duke. 
The  Duchess's  eyes  followed  the  glance,  and  she  grew 
deadly  pale. 

"  I  do  not  understand,"  she  said,  coldly. 

The  Princess's  heart  throbbed  madly  against  the 
little  case  in  which  she  kept  the  Duke's  note.  "Your 
Highness  will  not  understand,"  she  whispered.  "  You 
choose  to  shut  your  eyes."  She  raised  her  hands, 
still  clasped,  and  pressed  them  against  the  blue  silk 
jacket;  again  in  fancy  she  saw  the  scene  in  the  dim 
room  by  the  child's  bedside.  "  Claudine  von  Gerold  !" 
she  gasped. 

Before  she  could  utter  another  word  the  Duchess 
tottered,  and  would  have  fallen  bad  not  Helena  sup- 
ported her,  but  in  an  instant  her  Highness  recovered 
herself.  "  This  sultry  night  seems  to  beget  fever,"  she 
said,  with  a  smile  on  her  pale  lips.  "  Go  to  bed, 
cousin,  and  take  some  cooling  drink;  you  talk  wildly. 
— Call  Fraulein  von  Gerold,  my  dear  Katzenstein," 
she  said  to  the  old  lady-in-waiting,  who  hurried  up 
anxiously  at  sight  of  her  mistress's  pale  face. 

And  when  the  beautiful  girl  appeared,  her  Highness 
said,  kindly,  and  loud  enough  for  even  those  outside 
the  pavilion  to  hear,  "Take  me  to  the  carriage,  Dina; 
and  remember  that  you  will  have  to  attend  a  sick-bed 
to-morrow.  I  am  afraid  this  beautiful  fett.  has  been  too 
much  for  me." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  235 

She  leaned  heavily  on  Claudine's  arm,  and  walked, 
accompanied  by  the  Duke  and  Baron  Lothar,  to  where 
the  carriage  was  waiting  for  her;  and  as  she  went  she 
bowed  graciously  to  the  right  and  left,  without,  how- 
ever, acknowledging  the  Princess  Helena's  low  cour- 
tesy. When  Claudine  returned  with  Lothar  she  had 
the  Duchess's  bouquet  of  pomegranates  in  her  hand. 

She  lingered  for  a  few  moments  among  the  crowd, 
who  suddenly  seemed  quite  unconscious  of  her  pres- 
ence ;  but  she  did  not  observe  this ;  she  longed  for  rest. 
"Good-night,  Beata;  I  am  going  home." 

"How  strange  the  Duchess  seemed  as  she  took 
leave!"  said  Beata,  walking  with  Claudine  to  where 
her  carriage  waited.  "  She  looked  at  you  as  if  she 
would  fain  have  read  the  depths  of  your  soul,  and  yet 
as  if  she  had  some  atonement  to  make  to  you.  There 
is  a  childlike  tenderness  about  that  woman.  How 
sweet  her  manner  was  when  she  handed  you  her  bou- 
quet from  the  carriage  window  and  said,  'My  dear 
Claudine,'  as  if  she  could  not  show  you  affection 
enough!" 

"  We  love  each  other  very  dearly,"  Claudine  an- 
swered, simply. 

Princess  Helena  went  on  dancing  far  into  the  night, 
— "as  if  she  were  frantic,"  thought  Frau  von  Berg, 
who  had  returned  to  the  garden  after  emptying  the 
vials  of  her  wrath  upon  the  head  of  the  nurse.  The 
Princess's  eyes  sparkled  with  tears  while  she  laughed 
and  plied  her  ivory  fan  energetically.  Suddenly  she 
felt  as  if  she  could  no  longer  endure  her  distress,  her 
anguish,  and  she  fled  to  a  dark  recess  among  the  trees, 
and  flung  herself  upon  an  iron  bench  there,  leaning 
her  hot  cheek  against  the  cool  metal.  Frau  von  Berg 
confronted  her  with  a  gloomy  air. 


236  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"Good  heavens!"  she  exclaimed,  "what  if  any  one 
should  see  your  Grace  thus  ?" 

"  Is  the  Baron  coming  ?"  asked  the  weeping  girl, 
drying  her  eyes. 

Frau  von  Berg  smiled:  "Not  at  all;  he  is  talking 
with  Landrath  von  Besser  about  insurance  against 
fire." 

"  Did  you  see,  Alice  ?  The  Duchess  gave  the  Gerold 
her  bouquet  as  she  left;  that  was  all  the  effect  pro- 
duced"— here  she  laughed — "  by  my  well-meant  warn- 
ing." 

Frau  von  Berg  continued  to  smile :  "  Excuse  me, 
your  Grace,  but  the  Duchess  could  not  do  otherwise. 
So  noble  a  character  does  not  doubt  a  friend  upon  such 
a  mere  on  dit.  I  thought  you  knew  her  Highness 
better.  Why,  you  yourself  insisted  upon  'proof'!" 

The  Princess  clapped  both  hands  to  her  ears,  as  if 
she  did  not  choose  to  hear  more. 

"Proof!"  Frau  von  Berg  repeated.  "  Proof,  your 
Grace !" 


Immediately  upon  her  return  home  the  Duchess 
retired  to  her  chamber  and  to  rest. 

How  easy  it  is  to  say  '  to  rest' !  how  natural  it  sounds  I 
and  yet  how  persistently  sleep  flies  from  a  troubled 
heart ! 

She  had  taken  some  cooling  drink,  and  lay  back  in 
her  quiet  room,  her  hands  clasped  listlessly  beneath 
her  head.  Sometimes  she  coughed,  and  her  cheeks 
began  to  burn. 

It  had  been  too  much  for  her,  that  noisy  fete ;  she 
ought  to  have  stayed  in  the  sick-room,  where  she  be- 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  237 

longed ;  but  it  is  hard  to  be  so  young  and  already  so 
infirm.  Will  it  ever  be  better? 

She  felt  a  dull  pain  at  her  left  side.  "  Strange !  what 
can  it  be?"  Was  it  physical?  Was  it  the  heart? 
Like  some  paralyzing  anguish  it  crept  through  all  her 
veins  and  dulled  her  power  of  thought. 

"  Impossible!"  she  whispered,  suddenly  aware  whence 
came  the  dull  pain.  "Impossible!"  She  sat  up  in  bed 
and  looked  about  her,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  she  was 
awake  and  not  tormented  by  an  evil  dream.  There  on 
her  toilet-table  lay  the  diamonds  which  her  maid  had 
taken  from  her  hair;  she  had  dismissed  her  attendant 
so  hastily  that  she  had  not  allowed  her  time  to  put 
them  away ;  she  had  felt  an  urgent  desire  to  be  alone. 
She  usually  liked  to  have  a  little  chat  with  her  good 
Katzenstein  before  resting;  but  to-night  the  worthy 
old  soul  had  been  dismissed  in  the  corridor. 

There,  upon  the  back  of  a  crimson-cushioned  chair, 
hung  her  lace  mantilla,  and  beside  it  still  lay  one  of  the 
centifolia  roses  from  Claudine's  breast ;  she  had  asked 
for  it  because  she  so  delighted  in  its  fragrance. 

How  beautiful  the  girl  had  been ! 

The  Duchess  took  the  ivory-framed  hand-glass  from 
the  table  beside  her  bed  and  looked  into  it.  In  the 
dim  crimson  light  there  looked  out  at  her  a  pair  of 
hollow  eyes  set  in  a  thin,  sallow  face.  She  dropped 
the  glass  on  the  coverlet  and  lay  back,  seized  with 
absolute  terror.  "  Oh,  merciful  God !"  she  whispered. 
And  then  she  took  from  the  table  the  Duke's  picture, 
gazed  at  the  proud,  handsome  face,  and  pressed  it  pas- 
sionately to  her  lips. 

Ah,  she  knew — none  better — how  devotedly  that  man 
could  be  loved ! 

With  the  picture  clasped  to  her  breast  she  lay  back, 


238  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

gazing  into  space.  Claudine's  bewitching  beauty,  as 
she  had  seen  her  a  few  hours  previously,  loomed  before 
her  eyes;  she  saw  her  beside  the  Duke  at  table,  and 
beneath  the  lindens  during  the  dance.  The  girl  had 
changed  colour  continually.  How  embarrassed  she 
always  was  when  his  Highness  entered  the  room  1  She 
never  sang  willingly  when  he  was  by.  At  times  she 
was  so  depressed,  and  then  again  so  merry ! 

Poor  Claudine !  A  fine  friend  you  have  here  think- 
ing of  you;  one  who  urgently  entreated  your  friend- 
ship to  doubt  you  afterwards. 

No,  she  would  not  doubt  her.  Absurd  gossip !  The 
little  Princess  was  sometimes  entirely  incomprehen- 
sible ! 

Poor  Claudine ! 

The  Duchess  smiled,  and  then  suddenly  pearly  drops 
of  moisture  gathered  on  her  brow,  and  through  the  sing- 
ing and  surging  in  her  ears  of  her  agitated  blood  there 
rang,  like  some  pitiless  bell,  the  voice  of  the  Princess : 
"  Your  Highness  will  not  see ;  you  do  not  choose  to 
understand."  "Our  Father"  came,  wrung  from  her 
soul,  and  her  hot  hands  clasped  the  picture  closer  to 
her  restless,  throbbing  heart.  Her  lips  whispered  the 
Lord's  Prayer  to  its  close.  "  Amen !  Death  rather 
than  that  I  Dear  God,  let  me  die!  let  me  die!" 

She  passed  in  review  her  entire  married  life.  She 
herself  had  lavishly  adorned  with  roses  the  altar  of  her 
happiness;  could  she  have  overlooked  the  sad  fact  that 
it  would  else  have  been  bare  of  all  decoration, — that 
she  alone  had  prayed  before  it? 

How  came  she  to  have  such  an  idea  ?  No,  her  happi- 
ness had  not  been  an  illusion ;  it  had  been  really  hers. 
How  kind,  how  considerate,  how  attentive  he  had  al- 
ways been,  especially  since  she  had  been  ill ! 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  239 

Kind?  Considerate?  Is  that  all  that  love  can 
give  ? 

She  groaned.  A  veil  seemed  to  fall  from  her  eyes, 
revealing  depths  of  desolation. 

And  yet  he  had  never  given  her  cause  for  jealousy, 
— that  plebeian  passion,  as  Princess  Thekla  called  it, 
which  she  said  no  princess  should  ever  experience. 

"  I  do  not  myself  know  the  passion,"  she  had  made 
reply;  "thank  God  I  have  had  no  occasion  for  it." 
But  at  this  moment  she,  the  reigning  Duchess,  the 
royal  Princess,  knew  that  she  had  to  a  great  degree 
fallen  a  victim  to  this  passion, — that  it  was  to  torture 
her  hopelessly. 

Again  she  looked  in  the  glass,  and  then  clasped  her 
hands  before  her  eyes.  Had  she  been  blind  ?  What 
could  she  be  to  him,  ill,  tottering  on  the  brink  of  the 
grave  as  she  was  ?  Nothing,  nothing  save  a  burden. 
But  not  that,  only  not  that. 

Could  they  not  wait  until  she  was  dead  ?  How  long 
would  it  be?  "Ah,  have  compassion  only  for  so  long  I 
Take  pity!" 

She  sank  back  half  fainting,  incapable  of  motion,  and 
yet  feeling  that  she  was  awake,  that  it  was  all  horribly 
real,  that  her  fate  had  cast  aside  a  smiling  mask  to 
show  its  real  face ;  ah,  so  comfortless,  so  despairing  a 
face! 

She  did  not  know  how  long  she  lay  there.  She  no 
longer  had  the  strength  to  call  herself  to  account ;  she 
saw  a  fair  head  lying  on  his  breast  as  her  own  had 
once  lain,  while  she  herself  lay  in  her  coffin  and  could 
not  stir.  The  cold  moisture  stood  in  drops  upon  her 
forehead  ;  by  a  frightful  effort  she  started  up  and  rang 
her  bell  loudly.  The  waiting-maid,  terrified,  appeared 
on  the  instant. 


240  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Open  the  window,"  gasped  the  Duchess,  sitting 
erect  in  bed.  "  I  am  stifling." 

The  maid  hastened  to  the  window  and  drew  aside 
the  curtains,  letting  the  first  rays  of  the  glowing 
morning  sun  penetrate  the  apartment  to  play  about 
the  feverishly  agitated  young  wife  upon  her  couch. 

She  gazed  inquiringly  out  into  this  wondrously  lovely 
world,  her  eyes  wandering  beyond  the  summits  of  the 
trees  of  the  park,  quivering  in  the  morning  air,  to 
the  pine-clad  range  of  mountains  that  showed  bluish 
green  on  the  horizon.  She  inhaled  the  pure,  fresh  air, 
she  heard  the  twittering  of  the  birds  amid  the  foliage, 
and  she  burst  into  tears,  tears  of  shame  at  her  despair, 
her  distrust. 

She  lay  sobbing  for  a  time,  and  at  last  fell  asleep. 
When  she  awoke,  Claudine  was  sitting  beside  her  couch. 
She  was  arranging  some  roses,  which  she  had  begged 
of  Heinemann,  and  was  so  absorbed  in  her  noiseless 
occupation  that  she  did  not  for  a  time  perceive  the 
Duchess's  eyes  resting  upon  her.  When  she  looked  up 
a  glad  expression  lit  up  her  anxious  face. 

"  Ah,  dear  Elizabeth !"  she  exclaimed,  kneeling  beside 
the  bed  with  her  flowers,  "  how  you  have  frightened 
me  !  What  is  the  matter?  Frau  von  Katzenstein  sent 
for  me  in  the  early  morning.  Did  you  exert  yourself 
too  much  last  evening?" 

The  Duchess  propped  her  head  upon  her  hand,  look- 
ing fixedly  into  the  lovely  face,  where  anxiety  and  dis- 
tress were  so  plain  to  see.  Then  she  stroked  the  fair 
head  caressingly.  "  I  am  better  now,"  she  said,  gently ; 
"  how  glad  I  am  you  came  1" 

She  was  unusually  silent  all  the  forenoon,  but  she  con- 
tinually followed  Claudine  with  her  eyes.  Towards  noon 
she  tried  to  rise,  but  she  was  obliged  to  go  back  to  bed. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  241 

"  Stay  with  me,  Claudine,"  she  begged. 

"  Yes,  Elizabeth." 

The  invalid  opened  her  weary  eyes,  and,  as  if  sur- 
prised by  this  ready  assent,  asked,  "  You  can  stay  away 
from  home  without  anxiety  ?" 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it,  Elizabeth.  Even  though  my 
absence  were  felt  there,  I  should  come.  I  will  write  a 
line  to  Joachim  and  send  for  a  few  things.  Do  not  be 
troubled." 

"  Tell  me  something,"  the  Duchess  said  towards  even- 
ing. She  had  been  lying  almost  motionless,  with  closed 
eyes,  during  the  afternoon. 

"  "With  pleasure,  Elizabeth.    "What  shall  it  be  about  ?" 

"  Something  about  your  life." 

"Ah,  good  heavens,  there  is  very  little  to  tell.  I 
think  you  know  it  all,  Elizabeth." 

"All?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear  Elizabeth." 

"  Were  you  never  in  love,  Dina  ?" 

The  girl's  face  was  suffused  with  a  burning  blush ; 
she  slowly  bowed  her  head. 

"  Ah,  hush,  Elizabeth  !"  she  said,  almost  in  a  whisper ; 
"  do  not  ask— I " 

"  Can  you  not  tell  me  ?"  the  Duchess  persisted. 
"  Give  me  your  confidence,  Dina ;  ah,  give  it  me !  You 
know  all  about  me." 

At  this  moment  the  Duke  was  announced,  and,  almost 
overcome,  the  girl  arose  and,  with  a  bow,  was  about  to 
pass  him  and  retire  to  the  antechamber. 

"  Claudine!  Claudine!"  cried  tbe  invalid,  and  as  she 
returned,  the  Duchess  pointed  to  a  seat  beside  her  bed. 
"  Stay  here  !"  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  command.  It  was 
the  first  time  that  she  had  spoken  so  to  her  friend. 

Claudine  sat  down.  She  heard  how  tenderly  and 
L  Q  '21 


242  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

compassionately  the  Duke  addressed  the  invalid,  hoping 
that  she  would  be  able  to  take  part  in  the  garden-party 
which  they  were  to  have  on  the  morrow,  for  which 
'  mamma'  had  promised  to  come  to  them. 

"  I  will  take  pains  to  be  well,"  she  replied. 

"  That's  right,  Liesel.  Take  pains."  And  the  Duke 
laughed.  "  If  all  invalids  would  only  resolve  thus, 
there  would  be  fewer  of  them.  The  will  really  has 
something  to  do  with  recovery ;  ask  our  worthy  doctor." 

"  I  know  it,  I  know  it,"  she  said,  hastily. 

"  The  doctor  maintains  that  you  are  only  mentally 
ailing  to-day,"  the  Duke  went  on.  "  I  cannot  see  how 
that  can  be.  I  think,  my  child,  that  you  have  simply 
taken  cold.  You  must  be  careful ;  the  night  air  is  not 
good  for  you.  In  the  winter  you  must  certainly  go  to 
Cannes." 

"  In  the  winter,"  she  thought,  with  bitterness.  Aloud 
she  said,  "  But  I  do  not  want  to  be  careful." 

His  Highness  stared  in  amazement  to  hear  such  a 
tone  from  one  usually  so  docile.  "  You  certainly  are 
very  much  out  of  sorts,"  he  said,  with  a  degree  of  se- 
verity sure  to  be  excited  by  illogical  antagonism. 
Then  turning  to  Claudine,  he  remarked,  as  if  to  change 
the  subject,  "  Your  cousin  gave  us  a  charming  fete  yes- 
terday; the  arrangements  were  perfect.  And  what 
original  costumes!  Yours,  for  instance,  Fraulein  von 
Gerold ;  simply  exquisite,  was  it  not,  Elizabeth?" 

"I  really  cannot  bear  conversation,  Adalbert;  please 
go — ,"  said  the  invalid,  her  lips  quivering  nervously. 
And  as  he  was  retiring  with  an  impatient  gesture,  she 
held  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  with  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears  said,  "Forgive  me!"  And  then  she  took  Clau- 
dine's  hand,  and  clasping  it  in  her  own,  which  burned 
with  fever,  lay  back  and  closed  her  eyes. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  243 

He  had  gone. 

Meanwhile,  dark  clouds  had  gathered  in  the  skies; 
the  air  was  sultry,  and  seemed  to  threaten  a  storm.  In 
the  misty  twilight  the  Duchess's  face  looked  like  that 
of  a  corpse.  Thus  she  lay  immovable,  and  thus  Claudine 
sat  beside  her,  for  hours. 

It  all  seemed  to  the  girl  weirdly  strange. 


The  news  of  the  Duchess's  illness  had  spread  every- 
where. 

"  She  looked  remarkably  pale  just  before  she  left," 
Princess  Thekla  remarked,  as  they  sat  at  supper  in  the 
Neuhaus  dining-hall. 

"My  cousin  was  sent  for  at  an  early  hour  this 
morning,"  said  Beata,  who  showed  no  sign  of  fatigue, 
although  she  had  not  been  to  bed,  that  she  might  over- 
see the  removal  of  every  trace  of  the  previous  evening's 
entertainment.  Every  fork,  every  cup,  every  piece  of 
furniture,  was  in  its  place;  there  was  nothing  to  re- 
mind one  of  the  fairy  spectacle  of  last  night,  least  of 
all  in  the  people  themselves.  "  She  has  just  written 
to  me,"  Beata  continued,  "that  she  is  attending  upon 
the  Duchess,  and  is  staying  at  Altenstein." 

"What  a  touching  friendship!"  exclaimed  the  old 
Princess,  who  was  in  a  very  bad  humour,  for  early  in 
the  morning,  while  she  was  still  slumbering  sweetly, 
Baron  Lothar  had  dismissed  the  child's  nurse  upon 
the  spot,  and  very  shortly  afterwards  a  note  had  been 
brought  to  Frau  von  Berg's  bedside,  rousing  her  from 
a  delightful  dream.  It  contained  a  dismissal  in  due 
form  from  her  position  as  '  the  governess  of  my 


244  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

daughter;'  couched,  to  be  sure,  in  excessively  cour- 
teous terms,  but  thus  it  was,  although  at  the  close  the 
Baron  most  amiably  begged  Madame  to  accept,  for  as 
long  as  might  be  agreeable  to  her,  the  hospitality  of 
his  mansion. 

She  threw  on  a  dressing-gown,  and  in  defiance  of 
all  etiquette  rushed  into  the  Princess  Helena's  bed- 
room. Her  little  Grace  looked  wretched,  with  dark 
rings  around  her  eyes,  as  if  she  had  cried  more  than 
slept  during  the  night. 

"  What  of  it  ?"  had  been  the  pettishly  expressed 
consolation  tendered  to  Frau  von  Berg.  "You  can 
comr  to  mamma,  Alice ;  I  will  speak  to  her.  The 
Moorsleben  is  going  back  to  her  parents  in  any  case." 

And  '  mamma'  had  actually  requested  '  dear  Alice' 
to  come  to  her.  It  was  unheard  of, — dismissing  a  lady 
as  if  she  had  been  a  bonne, — a  lady,  too,  whom  she 
had  selected !  And  yet  she  had  not  ventured  to  re- 
monstrate ;  the  brief  statement  of  the  Baron's  reasons 
was  too  much  to  the  point;  indeed,  she  was  obliged 
for  form's  sake  to  reprove  the  person  to  whom  the 
death  from  neglect  of  her  beloved  grandchild  had 
nearly  been  owing.  Besides,  he  had  not  yet  declared 
himself,  and  he  could  not  be  chosen  in  marriage  like 
a  partner  for  a  waltz. 

Frau  von  Berg  was  not  perfectly  content  with  this 
arrangement;  she  sat,  pale,  and  like  an  innocent,  in- 
sulted angel,  in  her  room,  outwardly  nobly  composed, 
inwardly  beside  herself  with  anger.  The  nursery  had 
been  suddenly  removed  to  the  story  below,  close  to 
Beata's  comfortable  old  sleeping-room,  looking  out  upon 
the  spacious,  airy  court-yard,  where  horses,  cows,  and 
chickens  were  to  be  seen  ;  the  same  prospect  that  had 
delighted  the  eyes  of  the  child's  father  and  of  Aunt 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  245 

Beata  when  they  were  children.  And  the  same  faith- 
ful creature  who  had  had  charge  of  them  now  held 
the  little  girl  in  her  arms, — a  cleanly  peasant  woman 
of  between  fifty  and  sixty  years,  with  the  kindest  eyes 
in  the  world  beneath  her  black  cap.  Lothar  had  gone 
for  her  himself  early  in  the  morning,  and  had  brought 
her  to  his  child  from  her  pretty  little  cottage  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  village. 

"  What  a  touching  friendship  1"  the  Princess  Thekla 
exclaimed,  and  Beata  did  not,  and  Lothar  would  not, 
notice  the  sarcasm.  He  sat  as  if  lost  in  thought  in 
the  growing  darkness  of  the  coming  storm. 

"The  Duchess  is  often  ill,  as  we  all  know,  mamma," 
said  Princess  Helena,  who  seemed  never  to  take  her 
eyes  from  Lothar. 

"  Of  course !  Perhaps  she  was  annoyed  at  some- 
thing," the  old  Princess  observed,  significantly.  "  Be- 
sides, this  sultriness  is  oppressive ;  I  had  no  idea  that 
it  could  be  so  hot  here  in  the  mountains.  I  am  con- 
stantly remembering  the  cool,  dashing  waves  of  the 
North  Sea. — Herr  von  Pansewitz," — turning  to  her 
chamberlain, — "  have  you  heard  from  Ostend  whether 
we  can  have  rooms  at  the  Hotel  de  I' Ocean  ?" 

Beata  looked  in  surprise  at  her  brother.  The  huge- 
trunks  which  the  ladies  had  brought  to  Neuhaus  had 
betokened  a  longer  stay  there. 

Herr  von  Pansewitz  was  full  of  regret :  "  The  host, 
your  Grace,  has  telegraphed  me  that  unfortunately 
my  notice  came  too  late,  but  he  thinks  that  another 
hotel " 

"I  hope  you  will  go  with  us,  my  dear  Lothar," 
Princess  Thekla  interrupted  the  kindly  old  man,  turn- 
ing to  Baron  Grerold  with  even  more  amiability  than 
she  had  yet  shown  him.  "  The  memory  of  our  dear 

21* 


246  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

departed  will  attract  you  to  the  spot  where  you  passed 
with  her  the  short  weeks  of  the  time  of  your  be- 
trothal." 

Lothar  bowed  with  exceeding  respect :  "  Excuse  me, 
your  Grace;  I  do  not  willingly  revisit  scenes  which 
have  sad  associations  for  me ;  we  are  too  apt  to  give  to 
the  past  more  than  is  its  due,  while  it  is  a  man's  part 
to  attain  by  every  means  at  his  command  the  outward 
and  inward  composure  which  enables  him  to  perform 
his  duty  to  the  present.  Moreover,  I  have  been  latterly 
convinced  that  my  presence  at  Neuhaus  is  absolutely 
necessary,  and  it  would  be  for  the  good  of  my  estate  in 
Saxony  also  that  its  master  should  visit  it.  It  is  only 
now,"  he  went  on,  politely  offering  the  Princess  Helena 
a  dish  of  confitures, — "  now  that  I  have  been  obliged  to 
stay  so  long  in  southern  countries,  that  I  realize  how 
dearly  I  love  my  own, — this  bit  of  soil  where  I  grew 
up.  I  really  do  not  wish  to  stay  away  from  it  an  hour 
longer." 

The  Princess  cast  a  despairing  glance  towards  the 
window ;  it  might  have  been  caused  by  the  threatening 
clouds  outside  as  well  as  by  the  obstinacy  of  her  be- 
loved son-in-law. 

"  A  woman — a  mother — regards  the  memory  of  the 
departed  differently,  of  course,"  she  said,  coolly j  "less 
heroically,  begging  your  pardon,  Baron." 

"  Your  Grace,"  he  replied,  with  warmth,  "  it  would 
be  lamentable  were  it  otherwise.  It  is  woman's  privi- 
lege to  indulge  in  the  outward  signs  of  grief  as  well 
as  of  joy.  Her  hands  strew  flowers  on  joyous  occa- 
sions, and  they  deck  the  grave.  What  a  lustre  would 
fade  from  life  were  she  more  '  heroic' !" 

The  Princess  Helena  flushed  crimson.  What  put 
it  into  her  mother's  head  to  leave  here — now?  The 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  247 

fork  in  her  hand  trembled  so  that  she  had  to  lay  it 
down. 

"Good  heaven!"  exclaimed  the  Countess  Moorsleben, 
"  is  your  Grace  not  well  ?" 

"  Indeed — I  am — I  suddenly  grew  dizzy,"  stammered 
the  Princess.  "Excuse  me, — I " 

She  arose,  and,  putting  her  handkerchief  to  her 
eyes,  left  the  room  with  a  slight  courtesy,  signing  to 
the  Countess  not  to  follow  her.  She  flew  up-staira 
and  into  Prau  von  Berg's  room. 

"  Alice !"  she  exclaimed,  "  mamma  is  talking  of  leav- 
ing. It  is  terrible !  All  is  lost!" 

Frau  von  Berg,  who,  in  a  light  blue  morning-gown 
trimmed  with  cream-coloui'ed  lace,  was  pacing  her 
room  to  and  fro  with  half-closed  eyes,  sniffing  from 
time  to  time  at  her  vinaigrette  and  lightly  groaning, 
paused  and  forgot  for  a  moment  her  role  of  invalid. 

"  Gerold  refused  to  accompany  mamma,"  the  agitated 
little  Princess  went  on,  tearing  at  the  lace  of  her 
pocket-handkerchief.  "  He  suddenly  raves  over  his 
German  forests  like  a  very  peasant  whom  one  would 
persuade  to  emigrate  to  America.  What  should  I  do 
at  Ostend  ?  Knowing,  besides,  that  you  are  no  longer 
here,  Alice!  I  will  not  bear  it!"  She  threw  herself 
upon  the  lounge.  "  I  will  leap  from  the  train  on  the 
way !  I  will  throw  myself  into  the  sea !  I " 

The  Princess's  white  face,  looking  towards  the  spot 
where  the  motionless  figure  was  standing  in  the  gath- 
erino-  darkness,  was  in  its  distress  altered  almost  be- 

O 

yond  recognition. 

"Oh,  God!"  she  cried,  when  she  received  no  answer. 
"  All  is  lost !  I  am  going,  and  she  stays  I"  She  began  to 
weep  passionately,  burying  her  face  in  the  cushions.  "  I 
feel  it,  Alice ;  he  loves  her !  he  loves  her !"  she  sobbed. 


248  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Frau  von  Berg  smiled.  She  no  longer  had  any 
reason  for  forbearance ;  in  her  discomfiture  she  hated 
all  these  people,  and  felt  something  of  the  satisfaction 
with  which  an  anarchist  may  possibly  contemplate  the 
probability  of  a  small  charge  of  dynamite's  blowing  an 
entire  assemblage  into  the  air,  the  innocent  and  the 
guilty  alike. 

"  Shed  no  more  idle  tears,  Princess,"  she  said,  coolly. 
"  You  must  act.  First  of  all,  it  seems  to  me,  her  High- 
ness must  be  convinced  that  your  Grace  spoke  advisedly 
yesterday.  All  will  then  arrange  itself." 

And  in  her  mental  vision  Frau  von  Berg  saw  the 
entire  clique  fly  into  the  air, — this  childish,  irresolute 
creature  with  the  rest,  for  all  she  cared. 

"But  I  cannot  tell  her!  I  cannot!"  whispered  the 
Princess.  "  I  once  saw  a  wounded  doe,  and  she  looked 
at  me  last  night  just  as  that  poor  creature  did.  I  can- 
not !  I  could  not  sleep  last  night  for  thinking  of  it." 

Frau  von  Berg  shrugged  her  shoulders :  "  Then 
your  Grace  can  go  to  Ostend,  and  leave  the  idyl  here 
to  develop  undisturbed." 

Outside,  the  hurricane  blast  that  precedes  a  storm 
dashed  leaves  and  sand  against  the  window-panes,  and 
tore  at  the  linden  boughs.  The  first  vivid  flash  of 
lightning  lit  up  the  room  for  an  instant,  and  showed 
the  contemptuous  face  of  the  handsome  woman  who 
stood  at  the  window  looking  out  into  the  hurly-burly. 

"  I  will  write  to  her,"  the  Princess  said.  "  She 
would  not  listen  to  me."  And  after  a  pause,  during 
which  a  clap  of  thunder  shook  the  house,  "  I  owe  it  to 
her;  yes,  I  owe  it  to  her;  you  are  right,  Alice.  Come 
to  my  room ;  I  am  afraid." 

Frau  von  Berg  lit  a  candle  on  the  writing-table,  and 
conducted  the  Princess  across  the  corridor  to  her  room. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  249 

Upon  her  round  white  face  there  was  an  expression  of 
extreme  satisfaction.  "At  last!"  she  thought,  clinch- 
ing her  fist.  Every  ray  of  compassion  in  her  soul,  had 
any  such  existed,  would  have  been  extinguished  by  the 
scene  of  the  previous  evening.  How  haughtily  she  had 
passed  her  by  when  Baron  Gerold  took  her — Frau  von 
Berg, — a  born  Czernetzky — to  task  !  Why,  her  ances- 
tors were  Sobieskis !  There  was  a  gleam  in  her  eyes ; 
the  Duke  had  spoken  to  her  yesterday  evening  for  the 
first  time  since  long  ago,  and  she  had  boldly  ventured  to 
remind  him  of  certain  past  experiences.  He  had,  when 
a  young  Prince,  been  desperately  in  love  with  her,  and 
old  love 

"  What  do  you  think,  Alice  ?"  the  Princess  inter- 
rupted her  train  of  thought.  "What  shall  I  write?" 

The  girl  was  seated  at  the  antique  writing-table,  with 
a  sheet  of  paper  stamped  with  the  escutcheon  of  her 
family  before  her;  but  she  had  got  no  farther  than 
'Dear  Elizabeth.' 

"Your  Grace  must  say  that  interest  in  her  Higiv 
ness's  happiness  induces  you  to  explain  your  remark  of 
yesterday  evening ;  that  you  cannot  answer  it  to  your 
conscience,  and  so  on ;  and  then  produce  the  proof." 

The  Princess  turned  away  and  wrote.  The  storm 
raged  outside,  and  when  a  clap  of  thunder  shook  the 
house  the  girlish  hand  paused.  Sometimes  it  would  be 
passed  across  her  brow,  and  the  next  instant  the  pen 
would  fly  over  the  paper.  At  last  the  note  was  handed 
to  Frau  von  Berg,  who  still  stood  motionless  in  the 
middle  of  the  room. 

She  approached  the  candle  and  read.  "  Con  passione, 
of  course,"  she  said.  "  Eeally  touching !  And  now  his 
Highness's  note."  Her  eyes  had  a  cruel,  cat-like  gleam 
in  them. 


250  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

The  Princess  drew  a  chain  from  among  the  folds  of 
her  embroidered  white  gown,  took  the  note  out  of  the 
little  case,  and  closed  her  hand  upon  it.  A  final  strug- 
gle was  going  on  within  her.  Frau  von  Berg  leaned 
against  the  wall  beside  the  table,  playing  with  the  tassel 
of  her  dressing-gown.  "  In  fact,"  she  said,  slowly,  with- 
out looking  up,  "  she  did  look  superb  yesterday  evening, 
this  Claudine.  There  is  a  unique  charm  about  those 
blonde  women  with  dark-blue  eyes."  The  little  Princess 
hastily  wrote  the  address  upon  her  envelope. 

At  this  moment  Countess  JVtoorsleben  appeared,  to 
summon  Helena  to  her  mother.  The  old  Princess  had 
a  nervous  attack,  and  was  in  the  state  in  which  she 
was  liable  to  destroy  whatever  was  at  hand,  to  tear  to 
pieces  an  innocent  pocket-handkerchief  or  two,  and  to 
be  lavish  with  abusive  epithets.  To-day  she  raged  as 
did  the  storm  outside.  In  half  an  hour  the  Princess 
came  back  to  her  room  with  red  eyes.  She  had  pas- 
sively defied  the  storm  of  reproach  with  which  she  had 
been  assailed.  It  certainly  was  not  her  fault  that  her 
mother  could  not  breathe  any  longer  in  this  heavy  at- 
mosphere, and  that  the  Dowager  Duchess  had  replied 
so  coldly  to  her  Grace's  confidential  communication. 
Why  write  to  so  formal  and  irreproachable  a  person  ? 
— one  who,  besides,  had  always  been  infatuated  about 
Claudine?  The  candle  on  the  writing-table  had  nearly 
burned  to  the  socket,  the  pen  she  had  flung  down  lay 
beside  the  inkstand,  but — she  put  her  hand  to  her  fore- 
head— the  letter;  where  was  the  letter? 

A  tremor  of  anxiety  sent  her  rushing  across  the  cor- 
ridor to  Frau  von  Berg's  room. 

"  Alice  !"  she  called  out  in  the  darkness,  "  the  letter  I 
What  have  you  done  with  the  letter  ?  I  want  to  read 
it  a<jain  !" 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  251 

No  reply. 

"  Alice !"  she  called,  angrily  stamping  her  foot. 

All  was  silent. 

Without  thinking  of  her  red  eyelids,  she  ran  down- 
stairs ;  through  the  half-open  hall  door  a  deliciously 
refreshing  breeze  was  blowing ;  it  had  stopped  raining. 
A  shadow  was  gliding  to  and  fro  on  the  stone  pavement 
outside. 

"  Alice !"  the  Princess  called  for  the  third  time,  and 
hurried  out,  "  the  letter  I  Where  is  the  letter  ?" 

"  Your  Grace,  I  sent  it  immediately." 

A  half-stifled  cry  burst  from  the  girl's  lips.  "  Who 
told  you  to  send  it  ?"  she  stammered,  seizing  the  lady 
by  the  shoulders. 

"  An  excellent  opportunity  offered,  your  Grace,"  was 
the  calm  reply. 

But  the  Princess's  agitation  was  not  allayed.  "  And 
how  shall  I  say  that  that  wretched  note  came  into  my 
possession  ?"  she  asked,  wringing  her  hands. 

"  You  found  it,"  the  lady  replied. 

"  I  never  lie !"  the  girl  said,  and  her  delicate  figure 
seemed  to  dilate.  "  I  shall  say  that  I  got  it  from  you ;  so 
help  me  God,  I  will  tell  the  truth !" 

"  As  your  Grace  thinks  best.  Then  /shall  have  found 
the  note,"  she  replied.  "  I  gave  it  to  the  groom  whom 
the  Baron  sent  to  Fraulein  von  Gerold  at  Altenstein  ;  he 
was  to  give  it  to  Frau  von  Katzenstein,  to  whom  I  wrote 
a  few  lines  asking  her  to  hand  the  accompanying  note 
to  her  Highness  early  to-morrow  morning." 

The  Princess  had  grown  quiet.  She  had  clasped  as 
a  support  the  antique  brass  door-knocker,  which  shone 
in  the  pale  moonlight,  surmounted  by  the  star-crowned 
stag.  She  could  not  think  clearly,  and  she  felt  inex- 
pressibly miserable 


252  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Frau  von  Berg  know  perfectly  well  that  the  groom's 
errand  had  been  from  Beata  to  Claudine,  but  what 
need  to  tell  this?  Her  words  must  add  fuel  to  the 
flame. 

The  Princess  re-entered  the  hall  and  paused  there, 
possessed  by  a  foreboding  of  evil,  by  a  nameless  horror. 

Beata  was  coming  from  her  brother's  room,  her  bas- 
ket of  keys  on  her  arm.  "  Princess  !"  she  exclaimed, 
startled,  "  how  ill  you  look!" 

Then  life  returned  to  her.  She  hurried  up-stairs  into 
her  room,  and  flung  herself,  all  dressed  as  she  was,  upon 
her  bed,  where  she  lay  through  the  night,  half  uncon- 
scious, dreading  the  dawn  of  the  day. 


"When  the  storm  burst  forth,  the  Duchess  sent  for 
her  children.  The  youngest  nestled  close  to  her  as  she 
sat  propped  up  by  pillows  in  bed ;  the  eldest  Prince 
stood  boldly  at  the  window,  looking  out  into  the  flash- 
ing lightning;  his  younger  brother  Claudine  held  in 
her  lap. 

Beside  his  eldest  son  stood  the  Duke,  listening  to  the 
rattle  of  the  hail  and  gazing  at  the  floods  of  water 
dashed  against  the  window-panes  ;  the  Duchess  talked 
to  her  baby ;  Frau  von  Katzenstein,  the  children's  gov- 
erness, and  the  lady's-maid  were  in  the  adjoining  room. 

When  the  thunder  had  ceased  and  the  rain  held  up, 
the  children  were  dismissed  to  the  nursery.  The  heir 
looked  Claudine  in  the  face.  "  Were  you  afraid  ?"  he 
asked. 

She  gently  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  glad,"  said  the  lad.  "  Mamma  is  always  afraid." 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  253 

The  mother  drew  the  boy  towards  her.  "You  like 
Claudine  von  Gerold  very  much?"  she  asked,  with  a 
melancholy  smile. 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  replied  the  child.  "  If  I  were  big 
enough  I  would  marry  her." 

No  one  laughed ;  the  Duke  at  the  window  did  not  stir, 
and  Claudine  was  embarrassed.  The  Duchess  nodded. 
"  Good-night,  dear  children  ;  God  guard  you !" 

"When  the  sound  of  their  footsteps  had  died  away, 
she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  am  very  tired,  Adalbert." 

The  Duke  took  his  leave,  kissing  his  wife's  brow,  and 
saying,  "  Wake  up  well  to-morrow." 

"I  promise,"  she  replied,  pleasantly. 

Claudine  was  to  share  the  night  watching  with  Frau 
von  Katzenstein.  She  went  to  the  room  which  had  been 
assigned  her,  the  same  that  had  been  hen?  when  this 
house  was  her  home,  and  put  on  a  wrapper.  Then 
she  returned,  to  sit,  silent  and  patient,  beside  the  bed. 

The  Duchess  lay  with  closed  eyes.  The  night-clock 
ticked  softly ;  the  pictured  Madonna  gleamed  faintly 
in  the  semi-darkness ;  the  girl's  eyes  rested  upon  that 
lovely  face,  and  then  wandered  to  the  pale  countenance 
of  the  invalid.  Then  her  head  sank  back,  she  closed 
her  eyes,  and  meditated. 

She  was  very  weary  from  the  agitations  of  the  pre- 
vious evening ;  dreamily  half  conscious,  she  saw  herself 
with  his  child  in  her  arms,  felt  his  kiss  of  gratitude 
upon  her  hand,  and  smiled  in  her  sleep.  Starting,  she 
sat  upright,  broad  awake,  a  dread  assailing  her.  The 
Duchess's  eyes  were  gazing  at  her  with  a  strange, 
searching  look  in  them. 

"Elizabeth,"  she  said,  shivering  slightly,  "can  you 
not  sleep  ?" 

"  No." 

22 


254  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

"Shall  I  read  to  you?" 

"  No,  thank  you." 

"  Would  you  like  to  talk  ?  Shall  I  arrange  your 
pillows  for  you  ?" 

"Give  me  your  hand,  Claudine.  Was  I  very  dis- 
agreeable to-day  ?" 

"Ah,  Elizabeth,  that  you  can  never  be!"  exclaimed 
the  girl,  kneeling  beside  her. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know  it.  But — but  my  heart  is  sick, 
and  you  must  forgive  me." 

"  Tell  me,  Elizabeth,  have  you  had  any  sorrow  ?" 

"  No ;  I  was  only  thinking  of  dying." 

"  Oh,  do  not  think  of  that  /" 

"You  know,  Claudine,  there  is  no  cure  for  love  and 
death.  I  do  not  think  I  fear  to  die ;  I  am  more  afraid 
of  living." 

"Ah,  you  are  ill,  Elizabeth." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  and  I  am  so  tired  !  You  ought  to  sleep, 
and  it  is  better  for  me  to  be  alone.  Please  go.  The 
maid  is  in  the  next  room ;  if  you  stay  here  I  cannot 
help  looking  at  you." 

Claudine  kissed  the  feverishly  hot  hand  and  with- 
drew. Towards  midnight  she  glided  to  the  sick-room  in 
her  night-dress,  and  listened  behind  the  silken  curtains 
to  know  if  the  Duchess  were  sleeping.  All  was  quiet; 
but  at  the  soft  rustle  of  her  step  the  large  dark  eyes 
of  the  invalid  opened,  and  slowly  turned  upon  her  with 
the  same  rigid,  inquiring  gaze  as  before.  "  What  is 
it?"  she  asked. 

Claudine  approached.  "I  am  worried  about  you," 
she  said  ;  "  forgive  me." 

"  Tell  me,"  said  the  Duchess,  inconsequently,  "  why 
did  you  at  first  not  want  to  go  to  Neuhaus  yesterday  ?" 

Claudine  was  startled.     "  Why  did  I  not  want  to  go 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  255 

to  Neuhaus?"  she  repeated,  blushing.  Then  she  was 
silent.  She  could  not  possibly  say,  "Because  I  love 
Lothar,  and  because  he  distresses  me  whenever  he  sees 
me ;  because  he  distrusts  me ;  because " 

The  Duchess  suddenly  turned  away:  "No,  no,  I  do 
not  want  an  answer.  Go,  go !" 

The  girl  walked  towards  the  door. 

"  Claudine !  Claudine !"  The  cry  was  one  of  heart- 
breaking distress.  The  invalid  was  again  sitting  up  in 
bed,  and  stretching  out  her  arms  towards  her  with  an 
imploring  expression. 

Claudine  went  to  her,  seated  herself  on  the  bed,  and 
took  the  frail,  trembling  little  creature  in  her  arms. 

"Elizabeth,"  she  said,  tenderly,  "let  me  stay  with 
you." 

"Forgive  me,  ah,  forgive  me!"  sobbed  the  Duchess^ 
kissing  the  girl's  dress,  her  long  fair  hair  that  hung 
loose  behind  her,  and  her  eyes.  "  Tell  me,"  she  whis- 
pered, "  and  say  it  aloud,  that  you  love  me." 

"  I  love  you  very  dearly,  Elizabeth,"  said  Claudine, 
wiping  away  the  large  tears  from  the  feverish  cheeks 
as  a  mother  would  for  her  child.  "  You  do  not  know 
how  dearly." 

The  Duchess  sank  back  exhausted :  "  I  thank  you. 
I  am  so  tired  !" 

Claudine  sat  perfectly  still  for  a  while,  and  then, 
when  she  thought  the  invalid  had  fallen  asleep,  she 
softly  withdrew  her  hand  from  her  friend's  clasp  and 
left  the  room  on  tiptoe,  pursued  by  an  inexplicable 
dread.  What  was  the  matter  with  the  Duchess? 
What  did  those  searching  glances,  that  coldness,  and 
this  passionate  tenderness  mean? 

"  She  is  ill,"  she  said  to  herself. 

She  stood  before  the  mirror  to  fasten  up  her  loosened 


256  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

hair.  A  doubt  occurred  to  her,  and  the  hand  busy  with 
the  tortoise-shell  pins  fell  at  her  side.  Then  she  proudly 
tossed  back  the  waves  of  gold.  Neither  she  nor  the 
Duchess  was  so  petty  as  to  pay  any  heed  to  gossip. 

By  a  mysterious  and  inscrutable  association  of  ideas 
the  remembrance  of  the  lost  note  suddenly  flashed  upon 
her  mind,  and  a  dull  foreboding  assailed  her  for  a  mo- 
ment. Then  she  smiled ;  who  could  divine  the  wood- 
land nook  where  it  had  probably  mouldered  away  in 
the  rain  and  dew  ? 

She  took  the  little  prayer-book  in  which  her  mother 
used  to  read  a  sentence  aloud  to  her  every  evening, 
opened  it  at  random,  and  read,  "  Guard  me,  O  Lord, 
from  evil  tongues,  and  defend  me  from  my  enemies. 
Let  no  evil  befall  me  or  mine,  and  let  no  plague 
come  nigh  our  dwelling."  Her  thoughts  flew  to  the 
peaceful  house  from  the  tower-chamber  of  which  her 
brother's  student-lamp  shone  out  into  the  dark  forest. 
Thence  they  wandered  to  the  bedside  of  the  mother- 
less child  at  Neuhaus.  "  Protect  it  in  future,  O  God 
Almighty,  as  Thou  didst  protect  it  last  evening," 
she  whispered,  and  her  eyes  sought  the  book  again. 
"  Have  compassion  on  the  sick  who,  sleepless,  seek  for 
ease  on  their  couches,  and  on  all  the  dying  for  whom 
this  night  is  the  last." 

The  book  slipped  from  her  hands,  an  icy  shiver  ran 
through  her;  the  Duchess's  distorted  face  suddenly 
rose  before  her.  She  turned  and  hid  her  own  in  the 
pillow;  how  came  she  to  think  of  anything  so  terrible? 

Only  after  a  long  while  did  she  sit  up,  and  with  a 
shiver  wrap  herself  in  a  coverlet.  She  left  the  lamp 
burning  on  the  table  ;  she  could  not  stay  in  the  dark. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  257 

The  next  morning  was  clear,  golden,  and  deliciously 
fresh.  The  sun  sparkled  from  millions  of  dew-drops 
on  the  spacious  lawns  of  the  Altenstein  park,  where  a 
host  of  labourers  were  busy  with  preparations  for  &fete, 
and  everything  looked  bright  and  merry.  A  pole  was 
erected,  upon  the  top  of  which  sat  a  gaudily-painted 
bird ;  there  was  a  merry-go-round,  its  horses  covered 
with  crimson  housings ;  there  was  a  puppet-show,  and 
a  red-and-white-striped  tent,  from  the  summit  of  which 
crimson  pennons  and  flags  were  flying;  in  the  shade 
a  platform  was  put  up  for  the  musicians,  and  a  planed 
floor  for  dancing : — all  devised  for  the  pleasure  of  little 
folk. 

It  was  the  heir's  birthday,  and  this  was  a  surprise 
prepared  for  him  by  his  paternal  grandmother,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  charming  little  pony  which  had  arrived 
the  evening  before  and  had  been  secretly  conveyed  to 
the  stables. 

An  early  despatch  announced  the  arrival  of  the 
Dowager  Duchess  towards  noon.  At  two  o'clock  the 
family  were  all  to  meet  at  table,  and  many  invitations, 
chiefly  to  children,  had  been  issued  for  the  afternoon. 
Even  little  Elizabeth  from  the  Owl's  Nest,  and  Leonie, 
Baroness  von  Gerold,  had  received  formal  cards  of  in- 
vitation. 

The  Duchess's  illness,  and  the  storm  of  yesterday, 
had  caused  much  anxiety.  Could  the  fete  take  place  ? 
But,  thank  heaven,  no  postponement  had  been  neces- 
sary ;  her  Highness  was  better,  and  the  weather  was 
incomparable.  All  might  reckon  upon  an  interesting 
afternoon, — a  continuation  of  the  late  entertainment  at 
Neuhaus,  which  had  been  "  simply  divine,"  as  "  piquante 
as  a  chapter  of  Daudet,"  her  Excellency  Plassen  de- 
clared to  Countess  Lilienstein  as  they  were  taking  their 
r  22* 


258  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

morning  walk  in  the  forest,  and  then  the  two  ladies 
whispered  together  mysteriously,  and  her  Excellency 
turned  up  her  eyes. 

"  If  she  is  only  cunning  enough  he  will  marry  her  yet : 
the  succession  is  secured,"  the  lady  observed  at  last. 

"  Never  fear,  my  dear  Countess,  the  G-erolds  all  know 
how  to  take  care  of  themselves.  The  Baron  will  get 
the  second  Princess  ;  he  is  amazingly  modest " 

"  Cunning,  my  dearest  Countess." 

"Ah!  They  are  all  on  the  most  intimate  footing; 
the  Duke  frequently  calls  him  '  cousin.'  " 

"And  well  he  may, — a  double  relationship."  She 
laughed  at  her  own  jest. 

"  Does  the  Duchess  really  suspect  nothing  ?"  asked 
one  of  the  gentlemen  in  the  bowling-alley  at  the 
'  Trout,'  where  they  had  made  up  a  small  party  for  a 
game,  "or  does  she  ignore  it  intentionally?" 

"  Possibly.  She  is  a  clever  woman,"  said  Baron  El- 
benstein,  poising  a  ball  in  his  hand. 

"  But  why  ?"  remonstrated  Major  Baumberg.  "  The 
poor  lady  sees  everything  with  regard  to  her  husband 
in  a  golden  light;  she  idolizes  the  Duke." 

"  That's  the  very  reason ;  she  would  not  deny  him 
what  would  make  him  happy." 

"  Infernally  handsome  woman,  the  Gerold  !" 

"Charming!" 

"  Exalted  above  every  breath  I" 

"  And  a  genuine  flirt." 

"And  cunning,  cunning!  Such  a  shrewd  move! 
Euns  away  from  her  position  at  court  to  this  wilderness 
just  at  the  moment  when  her  paternal  estate  is  brought 
to  the  hammer.  Clever,  wasn't  it  ?  And  he  snapped 
at  the  bait,"  said  a  melancholy  attache. 

His  old  Excellency  with  the  venerable  white  head 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  259 

lifted  his  bushy  eyebrows  in  disapproval.  "  Her  High- 
ness is  a  woman  of  delicate  sensibilities,"  he  said,  in  a 
voice  scarcely  audible  from  chronic  hoarseness.  "  Come, 
gentlemen,  I  must  beg " 

But  he  was  not  heeded. 

"  We  know  all  about  it,"  exclaimed  one,  who  had  just 
made  a  ten-stroke. 

Again  his  Excellency  entered  the  lists  for  the  girl 
who  was  so  harshly  judged,  and  tried  to  prove  that  it 
was  all  a  baseless  slander;  but  in  the  midst  of  his 
defence  his  voice  failed  him,  he  gasped  once  or  twice, 
wiped  bis  purple  face,  angrily  drank  his  glass  of  beer, 
and  abruptly  left  the  calumniators. 

"  Incredible!  Incredible!"  he  murmured  to  himself. 
And  when  he  met  a  couple  of  young  ladies  who  passed 
him  talking  together  in  a  low  voice,  he  looked  crossly 
after  them.  "  I'll  bet  they  are  whispering  about  that 
scandal.  Green  girls,  with  no  judgment!  I  only  wish 

that "  But  his  worthy  Excellency  might  swear 

his  deepest,  he  could  not  restrain  the  nods  and  whis- 
pers. They  pursued  their  course,  and  the  slander  was 
breathed  from  ear  to  ear  as  the  summer  breeze  floats 
from  tree-top  to  tree-top  ;  even  the  servants  stuck  their 
heads  together,  and  it  penetrated  to  all  sorts  of  places. 
The  swallows  twittered  it  in  their  nests  in  the  thatch 
of  the  cottages,  and  one  neighbour  detailed  it  to  another. 
In  one  of  the  poorest  little  huts  an  old  peasant-woman 
wrote  with  childlike  confidence  to  Fraulein  von  Gerold 
begging  her  to  intercede  with  the  Duke  to  have  her 
son  released  from  military  service  ;  if  she  asked  him, 
her  request  would  surely  be  granted. 

In  the  castle  all  were  noiselessly  stirring  quite  early. 
The  pretty  waiting-maid  who  answered  Claudine's  ring- 
ing of  her  bell  brought  her  several  letters. 


260  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

11  Do  they  know  yet  how  her  Highness  is  ?"  asked 
Claudine. 

"  Oh,  wonderfully  well.  Her  Highness  has  slept 
soundly,  and  is  to  give  the  Prince  his  presents  at  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  red  drawing-room." 

"  Thank  God !" 

Claudine  sent  the  girl  to  the  Princess's  maid  for  fur- 
ther intelligence.  After  she  had  dressed  she  opened 
her  letters.  One  was  from  Beata,  who  promised  to 
look  after  little  Elizabeth,  and  to  bring  her  to  the  fete 
in  the  afternoon : 

"  I  shall  chaperon  two  nieces  to  the  court  ball. 
How  grand  that  sounds,  and  how  funny  it  is  in  reality  1 
The  little  elves!  God  grant  that  her  Highness  may  be 
better  when  you  receive  these  lines!  Lothar  has  been 
asked  to  dine  with  the  ducal  party.  I  wish,  Claudine, 
that  if  he  is  going  to  woo  another  princess  he  would 
make  his  intentions  clear.  This  dallying  is  very  unlike 
him  ;  he  is  wont  to  be  so  resolute.  Perhaps  now,  when 

the  old  Princess  is  about  leaving Ah,  Claudine,  I 

had  fancied  quite  another  sister-in-law  !  Au  revoir" 

Claudine  sadly  laid  the  letter  aside  and  mechanically 
opened  the  second.  What  a  coarse,  clumsy  hand,  and 
what  an  idea!  Claudine  smiled  ;  she  was  asked  to  beg 
the  Duke  to  release  a  poor  mother's  son  from  military 
duty.  Suddenly  she  turned  ashy  pale.  Good  God! 
what  an  indication  !  How  did  this  old  peasant- woman 
come  to  think  of  her  ?  This  was  the  sort  of  letter  the 
Duchess  was  accustomed  to  receive. 

She  haughtily  held  her  head  erect.  Ridiculous! 
What  ideas  such  people  took  into  their  heads!  She 
determined  to  show  the  letter  to  the  Duchess  j  it  would 
amuse  her. 

Nevertheless,  she  was  conscious  of  a  sense  of  op- 


THE  OTPZ/'S  NEST.  261 

pression.  The  stupid  letter  was  like  the  prick  of  a 
needle  at  her  heart. 

Why  was  she  not  summoned  to  her  Highness  ? 

There  was  a  knock  at  her  door,  and  the  kindly  face 
of  Frau  von  Katzenstein  looked  in.  "  Ma}'  I  come  in  ?" 
she  asked,  as  she  entered.  u  Her  Highness  waked  in 
such  good  spirits,"  she  went  on.  "  She  wished  to  ar- 
range the  birthday-table  herself.  She  took  her  break- 
fast in  bed,  and  gave  special  orders  that  you,  dearest 
Claudine,  were  not  to  be  waked.  The  maid  was  told 
to  lay  out  for  dinner  a  red  silk  gown  trimmed  with 
lace,  and  now " 

"  Is  her  Highness  worse  ?"  Claudine  asked,  breath- 
lessly, hurrying  to  the  door. 

"  Stop,  dear  child,  and  let  me  tell  you.  The  Duchess 
had  some  letters  early  this  morning,  and  suddenly — I 
had  cut  open  the  envelopes — I  heard  a  strange  sound  in 
her  room,  like  a  deep  sigh,  and  when  I  went  in  I  found 
her  lying  back  again,  with  closed  eyes,  among  the  pil- 
lows. I  did  what  I  could  for  her,  but  she  said  to  me, 
in  a  strange,  thick  voice,  '  Go  away,  my  dear  Kat- 
zenstein ;  I  must  be  alone.'  I  went,  with  a  protest, 
and  when  I  tried  to  go  to  her  again,  she  had  locked  her 
door, — a  thing  she  never  did  before.  His  Highness  has 
sent  twice  to  know  if  she  is  ready  to  receive  him ;  the 
Prince  is  bursting  with  impatience ;  the  band  is  wait- 
ing in  the  garden  for  the  signal  to  begin  to  play,  and 
still  there  is  nothing  stirring  in  the  Duchess's  room." 

"  Good  heavens !  can  she  have  had  bad  news  from 
her  sister  ?" 

The  old  lady-in-waiting  shrugged  her  shoulders: 
"Who  knows?" 

"  Come,  dearest  Frau  von  Katzenstein.  Her  High- 
ness was  strangely  excited  yesterday." 


262  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

In  an  instant  the  girl  stood  at  the  little  tapestried 
door  leading  to  her  Highness's  room  and  listened.  Not 
a  sound  was  to  be  heard.  "  Elizabeth  !"  she  called,  in  a 
low,  distressed  voice. 

The  call  was  heard  within.  The  Duchess,  kneeling 
beside  her  bed,  raised  her  head  and  looked  wide-eyed 
towards  the  door,  but  her  lips  were  firmly  compressed. 
In  her  hand  she  held  a  little  crumpled  note.  All  doubt, 
all  dread,  was  past.  Eepose  had  come  with  certainty, 
a  terrible,  stony-like  repose,  and  with  it  pride,  the  pride 
of  a  royal  princess,  strong  and  powerful.  No  one  should 
suspect  how  poor  she  had  become. 

Only  this  short  rest  she  must  have, — this  one  hour 
to  soothe,  to  deaden  her  heart,  thus  mortally  wounded. 
Was  she  not  to  be  allowed  even  this? 

"  Elizabeth  !"  the  call  came  again.  "  For  the  love  of 
heaven !  I  am  dying  with  anxiety  I" 

The  Duchess  rose  and  took  a  step  forward,  her 
hands  pressed  to  her  temples  as  in  despair.  Then  she 
went  to  the  door  and  opened  it. 

"  What  do  you  want?"  she  asked,  coldly. 

Claudine  entered  and  saw  before  her  the  erect  figure, 
and  the  eyes  fixed  and  darkly  glowing.  "  Elizabeth," 
she  asked,  softly,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  Are  you  ill  ?" 

"No;  call  my  maid." 

"Do  not  struggle  so,  Elizabeth.  Lie  down.  You 
look  feverish  ;  you  are  suffering,"  stammered  Claudine, 
aware  of  a  terrible  change.  The  smiling  face  was  trans- 
formed to  a  rigid  mask. 

"  Call  my  maid,  and  bring  me  a  candle." 

Claudine  silently  obeyed.  The  Duchess  lit  a  paper 
at  the  flame  and  held  it  until  the  fire  all  but  touched 
her  transparent  fingers;  then  she  dropped  it  on  the 
ground  and  put  her  foot  upon  it. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  263 

"  There !"  she  said,  laying  her  band  upon  her  heart 
and  drawing  a  deep  breath.  Her  eyes  had  for  a  mo- 
ment an  expression  of  great  physical  pain. 

She  allowed  herself  to  be  dressed,  but  insisted  upon 
dark  colours.  Her  face,  with  its  two  crimson  spots  be- 
neath the  eyes,  looked  very  sallow  above  the  plain  dark 
violet  gown.  She  was  passive  beneath  her  dressing- 
maid's  hands,  except  that  when  she  would  have  put  a 
yellowish  rose  in  her  hair  the  Duchess  tore  out  the 
flower  impatiently  and  threw  it  on  the  ground. 

"Eoses!"  she  exclaimed,  with  an  indescribable  em- 
phasis. Then  she  paused  before  the  mirror  as  if  lost 
in  thought,  while  Claudine  stood  just  behind  her,  look- 
ing extremely  distressed. 

At  last  the  Duchess  began  to  laugh:  "Do  you  know 
the  proverb  '  Tout  comprendre,  c'est  tout  pardonnef  ?  " 
And,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  she  turned  to  the 
maid  and  said,  "  Inform  his  Highness  that  I  am  ready." 

She  beckoned  to  Claudine,  and  went  with  her  through 
the  boudoir  to  the  red  drawing-room.  The  apartment 
was  filled  with  the  fragrance  of  flowers ;  the  presents 
were  all  arranged  on  a  side-table, — toys,  books,  an  ex- 
quisite little  fowling-piece.  In  the  centre  of  the  table, 
in  a  richly-carved  frame,  was  the  picture  of  the  Duch- 
ess. She  took  it  up,  her  hand  slightly  trembling  as  she 
did  so,  and  gazed  at  it  as  if  it  were  something  strange 
which  she  had  never  seen  before. 

"  It  is  enchantingly  like  your  Highness,"  said  Frau 
von  Katzenstein.  "It  looks  so  fresh,  so  happy." 

"  It  is  a  bad  picture,"  the  Duchess  rejoined,  in  a  hard 
tone.  "  Take  it  away ;  it  is  false.  I  am  not  that." 

Frau  von  Katzenstein  glanced  despairingly  at  Clau- 
dine as  she  left  the  roon. 

At  this  moment  a  footman  opened  the  door,  and  the 


264  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

heir  entered,  followed  by  the  Duke  carrying  his  young- 
est son  in  his  arms  and  leading  the  second  boy  by  the 
hand.  The  Prince  was  about  to  rush  to  his  mother 
with  a  shout  of  joy,  but  he  paused,  as  did  the  Duke, 
at  sight  of  the  strangely  cold,  erect  figure  in  the  dark 
nun-like  dress. 

She  gazed  into  her  husband's  eyes  as  if  to  read  the 
very  depths  of  his  soul.  The  music  struck  up  below, 
outside ;  the  solemn  tones  floated  in  through  the  win- 
dow,— "  Praise  the  Lord  Almighty,  King  of  Hosts." 

For  a  moment  it  seemed  impossible  for  her  to 
preserve  her  composure ;  she  tottered,  and,  stooping, 
buried  her  face  in  her  boy's  curls.  "  Congratulate  me, 
mamma,"  the  lad  begged,  impatiently;  he  was  longing 
to  go  to  his  gifts. 

"  God  bless  you !"  she  whispered,  and  sat  down  in  the 
chair  which  the  Duke  placed  for  her. 

Claudine  had  withdrawn  to  a  window  in  the  next 
room  when  the  Duke  entered,  as  was  her  duty  at  a 
family  festival  of  this  kind  when  no  one  had  asked  her 
to  remain.  The  joyous  cries  of  the  children  mingled 
with  the  notes  of  the  merry  march  which  the  band 
now  played.  "  What,  in  heaven's  name,  is  the  matter 
with  the  Duchess  ?"  she  asked  herself. 

"  Grandmamma!  Grandmamma!"  was  soon  the  chil- 
dren's cry,  and  the  girl  started  with  a  sense  of  relief 
and  pleasure;  her  dear  and  honoured  mistress,  always 
so  kind  and  good  to  her,  had  arrived.  She  longed 
to  run  to  her  to  kiss  her  hand.  And  then  she  heard 
the  gentle,  kindly  voice ;  but  was  there  not  a  strange 
tone  of  pain  in  it? 

"My  dear  child,  my  dear  Elizabeth,  how  are  you?" 

For  a  while  all  was  still.  Then  the  same  voice, 
with  the  same  quiver  of  pain  in  it,  said,  "  Altenstein 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  205 

seems  to  have  done  you  no  good,  Elizabeth ;  I  shall 
take  you  with  me  to  Bavaria." 

"  Oh,  I  am  quite  well,"  the  Duchess  replied  aloud. 
"  So  well !  You  would  not  believe,  mamma,  how  much 
I  can  bear." 

The  noisy  music  outside  drowned  all  further  con- 
versation. 

Claudine  stood  as  on  burning  coals.  Was  the  Dow- 
ager Duchess  not  going  to  ask  after  her?  She  knew 
that  her  favourite  was  here ;  Claudine  had  written  to 
her  that  it  was  so.  To  be  sure,  she  had  received  no 
answer;  for  the  first  time  this  struck  her  as  strange. 
Again  the  inexplicable  distress  of  the  early  morning 
overcame  her. 

In  the  next  room  it  gradually  grew  quiet;  the 
Dowager  Duchess  had  probably  retired  to  take  some 
rest  after  her  long  drive ;  the  children  had  been  sent  to 
their  nursery.  The  only  sound  was  that  of  his  High- 
ness's  footsteps  as  he  paced  the  room  impatiently. 

"  Claudine  !"  the  Duchess  called.  She  must  learn  to 
endure  seeing  the  two  together.  And  when  Claudine 
appeared  she  looked  from  her  to  the  Duke.  How  per- 
fect was  their  self-command  !  His  Highness  scarcely 
glanced  at  the  beautiful  girl. 

They  must  have  had  immense  practice  in  dissimula- 
tion. Oh,  no,  they  had  had  an  easy  time  with  so  con- 
fiding and  credulous  a  fool  as  herself.  For  a  moment 
she  was  possessed  by  burning  jealousy, — by  a  desire 
to  annihilate  at  one  blow  the  girl  who  stood  beside  her. 

"  Hand  his  Highness  that  glass  of  wine,  Claudine," 
she  said.  "  His  Highness  has  forgotten  that  I  offered 
it  to  him  before." 

Claudine  obeyed. 

As  she  did  so  the  Duchess  rose  and  left  the  room. 
M  23 


266  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

She  was  afraid  of  bursting  into  that  terrible  laughter 
which  threatened  to  stifle  her. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  the  Duchess  ?"  asked  the 
Duke,  frowning,  as  he  emptied  his  glass. 

"  I  do  not  know,  your  Highness,"  replied  Claudine. 

"  Follow  her  Highness,"  he  said,  curtly. 

"Her  High  ness  has  gone  to  her  bedroom  and  does 
not  wish  to  be  disturbed ;  she  wishes  to  see  Fraulein 
von  Gerold  in  an  hour  in  the  green  drawing-room,"  the 
lady's-maid  said,  entering  at  that  moment. 

Claudine  walked  to  another  door  and  went  to  her 
room. 

In  the  Duchess's  apartment  the  curtains  were  closed, 
and  in  the  dim  light  her  Highness  lay  on  her  lounge. 
She  knew  that  Claudine  was  alone  with  him.  He 
would  kiss  her  hand  and  draw  her  to  him  and  say, 
"  Bear  with  her  caprice,  my  love  ;  she  is  a  sick  woman  ; 
endure  for  my  sake."  And  in  the  eyes  of  both  would 
gleam  the  hope  of  a  happier  future  ;  when  in  the  vault 
of  the  castle  chapel  a  new  coffin 

She  did  not  shudder  at  the  thought :  she  only  smiled  ; 
it  is  so  good  to  know  that  the  end  must  come !  Ah, 
how  many  a  bitter  grief  lies  at  rest  with  those  sleeping 
in  that  vault ! 

It  is  such  a  comfort  that  forgetfulness  and  sleep  come 
finally,  however  long  this  waking  which  we  call  life  may 
last. 

She  felt  something  of  the  self-reproach  which  assails 
a  sensitive  person  aware  of  making  too  great  a  demand 
upon  the  patience  of  others,  and  who  yet  cannot  help 
it.  And  then  the  oppression  of  the  chest; — it  was  so 
bard  to  breathe. 

4  If  it  were  not  for  the  children !" 

Well,  they  would  scarcely  miss  a  suffering,  invalid 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  267 

mother,  and  they  were  boys.  How  well  that  was  I 
No  poor  little  motherless  princess. 

And  the  outside  world.  Did  it  know  ?  Did  people 
smile  and  whisper  about  the  betrayed  woman  who  kept 
as  her  friend  the  woman  whom  her  husband  loved? 
She  groaned  ;  the  oppression  of  her  chest  increased. 

Again  she  rose,  and,  with  her  hands  clasped  upon 
her  breast,  wandered  about  the  room.  There  was 
nothing  for  her  to  do  but  to  be  proud,  proud  and 
careful. 

If  the  day  were  only  over !  If  the  night  were  but 
florae,  when  she  could  be  alone  and  weep ! 

Outside,  the  carriages  were  rolling  into  the  court- 
yard ;  steps  were  heard  in  the  corridor,  trains  rustled ; 
the  guests  betook  themselves  to  the  apartment  adjoin- 
ing the  old  Gerold  banqueting-hall,  in  a  building  which 
connected  the  two  wings  of  the  castle. 

Claudine,  sitting  motionless  in  an  arm-chair  in  her 
room,  heard  it  all.  At  every  step  she  turned  her  head, 
and  when  it  passed  her  face  flushed  for  an  instant. 
Why  did  the  Dowager  Duchess  not  send  for  her? 
Why  at  least  did  not  Fraulein  von  Bohlen,  her  suc- 
cessor with  the  old  Duchess,  come  to  see  her?  It  was 
the  custom  for  such  visits  to  be  paid.  And  the  pale, 
weary -looking  young  lady  with  sandy  hair  and  freckles 
had  already  been  half  an  hour  with  Frau  von  Katzen- 
stein. 

Before  her,  on  the  table,  lay  her  watch.  At  a  quar- 
ter of  two  she  must  go  to  the  green  drawing-room, 
where  the  Duchess  awaited  her,  and  accompany  her 
to  receive  the  guests.  She  had  changed  her  dress  ;  she 
wore  a  short  summer  gown  which  the  Duchess  had 
given  her  a  few  days  previously, — a  pale-blue  foulard 
trimmed  with  lace,  and  with  ornaments  of  silver,  each 


268  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

representing  an  edelweiss.  The  fan  of  blue  ostrich- 
feathers  lay  beside  the  long  tan-coloured  gloves.  She 
slowly  drew  on  the  latter ;  it  was  time  to  go. 

In  the  corridor  she  came  face  to  face  with  Fraulein 
von  Bohlen,  who  was  apparently  going  to  her  mistress's 
apartment.  The  two  ladies  had  met  at  court  festivals, 
and  Fraulein  von  Bohlen  had  been  sometimes  invited 
to  join  the  Dowager  Duchess's  circle  of  intimates.  Her 
father,  a  former  chamberlain  of  the  deceased  Duke,  had 
made  himself  obnoxious  to  his  successor  by  various  in- 
trigues, and  had  been  obliged  to  retire  to  private  life 
in  circumstances  the  reverse  of  brilliant.  Her  old 
Highness  supported  the  family,  who  considered  them- 
selves very  ill  used.  Her  gentle  disposition  forgave 
and  forgot  the  annoyance  inflicted  upon  her  family, 
and  she  appointed  Fraulein  von  Bohlen  to  the  post  left 
vacant  by  Claudine. 

Fraulein  von  Bohlen's  sandy  head  seemed  held  erect 
by  a  kind  of  cramp ;  she  was  quite  unable  to  incline  it 
by  way  of  greeting.  Claudine,  who,  in  her  own  kindly 
courteous  way,  held  out  her  hand,  suddenly  found  her- 
self alone.  The  young  lady's  cream-coloured  train 
swept  by  her  without  stopping,  and  vanished  behind 
the  old  oaken  folding-doors  at  the  end  of  the  corridor. 

Claudine  turned  calmly  away  and  went  into  the 
little  antechamber  adjoining  the  Duchess's  apartments. 
Frau  von  Katzenstein's  face  was  comical  enough,  at 
once  kindly,  compassionate,  and  embarrassed. 

"  Her  Highness  has  given  no  sign  of  life  as  yet,"  she 
stammered,  and  then  paused ;  the  Duchess  appeared 
on  the  threshold  of  her  room.  Her  first  glance  was  at 
her  friend.  Claudine  had  perhaps  never  looked  more 
beautiful  than  in  that  simple  girlish  costume. 

Her  Highness  gently  inclined  her  head  and  walked 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  269 

through  the  room  to  the  opposite  door;  from  behind 
it  were  audible  the  Duke's  suppressed  tones  and  the 
cold  voice  of  the  Princess  Thekla. 

The  Duchess  paused.  "  Give  me  your  arm,  Clau- 
dine,"  she  said,  almost  hoarsely,  and  thus,  side  by  side, 
followed  by  Frau  von  Katzenstein,  they  entered  the 
room  beneath  the  crimson  portiere,  which  the  attend- 
ants drew  aside.  In  the  apartment,  where  there  were  at 
present  about  twenty  people,  profound  silence  reigned 
for  a  moment. 

Was  that  the  Duchess  ? 

A  delicate  little  figure,  half  concealed  behind  a  large 
fan-palm,  clutched  at  the  crimson  velvet  curtain,  as  if 
for  support ;  her  trembling  knees  almost  refused  to 
obey  her  as  she  made  a  profound  courtesy.  At  a  sign 
from  her  mother  the  Princess  Helena  advanced,  but 
her  dark  head  was  inclined  in  vain, — there  was  no  kiss 
for  her  to-day  from  her  cousin  the  Duchess. 

They  did  not  sit  down,  but  stood  in  groups  con- 
versing. Baron  Gerold's  eyes  never  left  Claudine ;  the 
Duchess's  hand  still  lay  upon  her  arm.  The  girl  was 
looking  towards  the  opposite  door,  and  her  lovely  face 
flushed  with  pleasure  as  the  Dowager  Duchess  made 
her  appearance. 

To-day  there  was  something  unusually  hard  in  the 
kindly,  wrinkled  face  beneath  the  bands  of  snowy  hair. 
But  Claudine  did  not  see  it.  Supported  by  the  girl's 
arm,  the  Duchess  approached  her  mother-in-law  and 
bent  above  the  hand  extended  to  her,  while  Claudine 
courtesied  low.  The  girl's  eyes  sparkled  with  joyous 
expectation  at  sight  of  her  old  friend. 

"  Ah,  Fraulein  von  Gerold,  I  am  surprised  to  see  you 
here.  Did  you  not  tell  me  that  your  brother  could  not 
possibly  dispense  with  your  society  ?" 

23* 


270  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

The  old  lady  had  clasped  her  hands,  after  greeting 
her  daughter-in-law,  and  as  she  spoke  the  last  words 
she  looked  towards  Frau  von  Katzenstein  as  if  Clau- 
dine  had  not  been  present. 

Claudine  proudly  retired,  and  for  a  second  her  eyes 
encountered  those  of  her  cousin.  There  was  breathless 
silence,  except  for  the  old  voice,  now  so  kindly,  address- 
ing her  '  dear  Katzenstein.' 

Claudine  did  not  look  around :  a  paralyzing  dread 
possessed  her ;  she  tried  to  speak,  but  at  this  moment 
the  doors  were  opened.  The  heir,  who  to-day  was 
to  have  the  honour  of  escorting  his  grandmother  to 
table,  presented  himself  with  a  bow  of  much  solemnity 
before  the  old  lady,  and  the  next  moment  the  Dowager 
Duchess's  silver-gray  train  rustled  over  the  carpet. 

"Will  your  Highness  permit  me  to  retire?"  stam- 
mered Claudine,  turning  to  the  Duchess.  "  My  severe 
headache " 

For  an  instant  pity  stirred  in  the  heart  of  the  un- 
happy woman  for  the  girl  whose  ghastly,  pale  face  bore 
witness  to  her  intense  agitation. 

"  No,"  she  whispered, — his  Highness  passed  them  at 
that  moment, — "  I  am  ill  myself,  and  must  endure  and 
struggle.  Come  too." 

Claudine  walked  along  the  corridor  with  the  rest 
and  entered  the  reception-room  with  Lothar,  just  be- 
hind the  ducal  party.  Their  Highnesses  greeted  their 
guests,  the  heir  received  their  congratulations,  and  then 
the  doors  into  the  dining-hall  were  thrown  open.  Clau- 
dine's  seat  was  opposite  Lothar.  She  had  a  very  vague 
idea  of  the  progress  of  the  dinner;  she  answered  her 
neighbours'  questions,  she  ate  and  drank,  but  it  was  all 
as  if  in  a  dream.  The  Princess  Helena,  beside  Baron 
Lothar,  talked  for  a  while  very  rapidly  and  then  sat 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  271 

mute ;  sometimes  her  sparkling  black  eyes  glanced  over 
at  Claudine  while  she  played  with  her  dessert-spoon. 
And  when  she  encountered  Claudine's  strangely  absent 
gaze,  she  turned  red,  and  resumed  her  forced  gaiety. 

And — how  it  was,  who  can  divine  ? — it  hovered  in  the 
air,  it  foamed  in  the  champagne-glasses;  looks  and 
gestures  told  it  without  a  word ;  every  one  at  the  glitter- 
ing table  knew  it.  In  the  royal  apartments  something 
had  occurred ;  the  Dowager  Duchess  had  come  to  in- 
terfere. There  would  be  an  end  of  the  ideal  friendship  ; 
the  lovely  Gerold  was  here  for  the  last  time. 

It  had  a  paralyzing  effect  upon  all  these  apparently 
merry  people,  like  a  tempest  the  outbreak  of  which  is 
desired,  and  yet  dreaded.  His  Highness  seemed  very 
irritable ;  and  no  wonder.  The  Duchess,  contrary  to 
her  wont,  looked  flushed ;  she  often  passed  her  hand- 
kerchief across  her  brow  and  drank  ice- water. 

At  last  the  Duchess  arose  ;  dinner  was  at  an  end, 
and  coffee  was  served  in  an  adjoining  room. 

"  Her  Highness  has  retired,  and  wishes  to  see  you," 
Frau  von  Katzenstein  whispered  to  Claudine. 

The  girl  flew  up  the  stairs  and  along  the  corridor. 
Certainty  was  all  she  desired.  What  had  she  done  ? — 
how  had  she  transgressed  ?  And  yet  she  was  haunted 
by  a  terrible  foreboding. 

The  Duchess  sat  on  her  lounge,  her  head  leaning 
against  the  back  of  it. 

"  I  want  to  ask  you,"  she  began,  with  her  lips  tightly 
drawn ;  then  she  shrieked,  "  Oh,  Christ ! — I — Claudine !" 
and  the  blood  gushed  from  her  mouth. 

The  young  girl  held  her  in  her  arms,  neither  trem- 
bling nor  speaking,  while  the  maid  rushed  away  for 
assistance.  The  Duchess  was  entirely  unconscious. 

In   a   moment  the   physician,   the   Duke,  and   the 


272  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Dowager  Duchess  appeared.  The  invalid  was  put  to 
bed ;  soon  the  feverish  restlessness  usual  in  such  cases 
set  in.  Claudine,  her  face  pale  with  horror,  her  dress 
stained  with  blood,  was  all  unheeded;  whenever  she 
stretched  out  a  hand  to  help,  no  one  seemed  to  notice 
it,  or  even  to  see  it. 

"  Has  anything  occurred  to  disturb  her  Highness  ?" 
asked  the  physician. 

The  Duke  motioned  towards  Claudine :  "  Fraulein 
von  G-erold,  you  were  with  her  last ;  do  you  know  ?" 

"  I  cannot  conceive,"  she  replied. 

At  that  moment  the  old  Duchess's  eyes  encountered 
the  girl's.  There  was  stern  disapproval  in  them,  but 
Claudine  met  the  look  with  the  fearlessness  of  inno- 
cence. "  I  know  of  nothing,"  she  repeated. 

Below,  the  concert  began.  The  Duke  hastily  left  the 
sick-room  to  put  a  stop  to  its  continuance ;  in  the  cor- 
ridor he  encountered  the  Princess  Helena.  She  was 
breathless  from  running ;  she  had  heard  the  dreadful 
tidings  in  the  garden,  and  her  terrified  eyes  spoke 
more  plainly  than  words  could  have  done. 

"Your  Highness,"  said  the  physician,  who  had  fol- 
lowed the  Duke,  "it  would  be  better  to  telegraph  to 

H for  Professor  Thalheim.  Her  Highness  is  very 

weak." 

The  Duke  looked  dismayed ;  he  had  grown  pale. 

"Not  dying!  For  God's  sake,  not  that!"  whispered 
Helena.  And  she  turned  away  in  horror  as  Claudine 
appeared  in  her  blood-stained  gown. 

In  her  room  Claudine  met  Beata:  "Good  heavens, 
how  teiTible !"  she  exclaimed.  "  You  will  see,  my  dear, 
that  this  will  all  be  laid  to  the  account  of  our  fete." 

"Ah,  no,"  said  the  girl,  softly,  beginning  to  change 
her  dress. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  273 

"  Do  not  be  so  distressed,  Claudine ;  you  look  wretched. 
Down-stairs  everything  is  in  the  wildest  confusion.  I 
sent  the  nurse  with  Leonie  and  Elizabeth  far  away 
into  the  park.  A  few  people  are  still  near  the  castle, 
eager,  of  course,  to  know  the  why  and  the  where- 
fore. The  Princes  are  in  their  nursery;  the  heir  is 
crying  most  piteously.  "Who  would  have  thought  it  ?" 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  take  me  in  your  car- 
riage, Beata?"  asked  Claudine. 

Beata,  who  was  arranging  her  bonnet  before  a  mirror, 
turned  hastily:  "You  want  to  leave  now,  Claudine? 
You  cannot." 

"  But  I  can,  and  will " 

"Her  Highness  wishes  to  speak  to  Fraulein  von 
Gerold,"  the  Duchess's  maid  knocked  at  the  door  to 
say. 

"  There,  you  see,  Claudine,  you  cannot  go  away," 
said  Beata,  with  undisguised  satisfaction,  as  she  tied 
the  strings  of  her  bonnet. 

It  was  quiet  and  dark  in  the  sick-room.  Every  one 
had  been  sent  away;  the  Duke  was  pacing  the  ante- 
chamber with  inaudible  footsteps.  Claudine  sat  on  a 
chair  at  the  foot  of  the  couch,  whither  the  Duchess 
had  motioned  her  by  a  wave  of  her  hand ;  in  a  faint 
whisper  she  begged  her  to  stay,  as  she  had  something 
important  to  discuss  with  her. 

Below,  in  the  Prince's  room,  the  Princess  Helena 
was  crouching  on  the  carpet  beside  the  slender  lad ; 
she  was  not  crying,  but  her  hands  were  clasped,  as  if 
asking  forgiveness  of  some  one.  Princess  Thekla  was 
in  the  apartments  of  the  Dowager  Duchess.  The  old 
lady,  profoundly  agitated,  was  sitting  in  a  large  arm- 
chair, the  back  of  which  still  bore  the  Gerold  escutch- 
eon ;  she  scarcely  listened  to  what  her  Grace  was  say- 


274  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

ing.     She  was  shocked  at  the  condition  in  which  she 
had  found  'Liesel.' 

"  Yes ;  such  agitations  of  mind "  sighed  the  old 

Princess.    "  It  is  wellnigh  inconceivable.    She  is  a  posi- 
tive intriguer,  this  soft-spoken  Claudine!" 

"  My  dear  cousin,"  the  venerable  Duchess  rejoined, 
"  the  knowledge  is  as  old  as  human  experience,  that  in 
such  cases  the  larger  half  of  the  blame  is  the  man's ; 
let  us  remember  this,  if  you  please." 

"But  why  do  they  tolerate  her  here  any  longer?" 
said  the  Princess,  still  further  irritated  by  this  reply, 
her  sallow  complexion  growing  a  shade  darker. 

"  Please  to  remember,  ma  chere,  that  his  Highness 
alone  is  master  here." 

"  Of  course.  Pardon  me,  but  it  is  strange,  when  we 
think " 

"  Yes ;  but  there  are  cases  when  it  is  better  not  to 
think,  cousin,"  was  the  reply,  uttered  with  a  sigh. 

"  Baron  Gerold  begs  the  favour  of  an  interview  with 
your  Highness  concerning  a  matter  of  much  impor- 
tance," announced  Fraulein  von  Bohlen  at  this  junc- 
ture. 

Her  Highness  assented  immediately.  The  next 
moment  Lothar  entered  the  room.  Princess  Thekla 
smiled  amiably  at  him  and  rose :  "  A  private  audience  ? 
I  will  withdraw." 

"  Your  Grace's  presence  would  in  no  wise  interfere 
with  the  request  I  wish  to  lay  at  her  Highness's  feet, 
inasmuch  as  your  Grace  will  take  a  certain  degree  of 
interest  in  my  proposal." 

Her  Highness  glanced  keenly  at  him  from  beneath 
her  lace  cap.  "  "What  is  it,  Gerold  ?"  said  she. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  275 

Fraulein  von  Bohlen,  as  she  slowly  withdrew,  knew 
from  the  weary  air  of  her  kindly  mistress,  usually  so 
ready  to  give  counsel  and  advice,  that  she  was  reluc- 
tant to  allow  her  thoughts  to  stray  from  the  Duchess's 
sick-bed.  The  young  lady  courtesied  with  the  melan- 
choly, compassionate  expression  of  countenance  which 
she  had  assumed  of  late,  indeed  from  the  day  when  she 
had  seen  her  mistress's  eyes  swimming  in  tears  over 
a  letter.  And  yet  her  sensations  were  far  from  melan- 
choly :  the  secret  dread  lest  Claudine  should  one  day 
resume  her  position,  and  she  herself  be  obliged  to  re- 
turn to  her  shabby  home  with  its  parsimonious  exist- 
ence, no  longer  tormented  her;  never  again  would  the 
Dowager  Duchess,  with  her  strict  notions  of  moral- 
ity, desire  to  have  about  her  the  girl  who  had  laid  a 
sacrilegious  hand  upon  the  most  sacred  of  ties  and  had 
disturbed  the  domestic  peace  of  the  reigning  family. 
She  smiled  when  she  found  herself  alone,  and  her 
thoughts  busied  themselves  with  the  future  whilst, 
standing  at  the  window,  she  gazed  abroad  over  the 
sunny  garden.  What  mattered  to  her  the  pain  and 
anguish  of  others?  She  knew  one  thing  only:  never 
more  should  she  be  forced  to  hear  every  penny  dis- 
cussed at  home ;  never  more  should  she  be  obliged  to 
pass  with  an  air  of  proud  indifference  the  shops  where 
long  accounts  were  owing,  for  which  she  was  dunned 
every  week ;  never  more  should  she  have  to  clean  her 
gloves  with  benzine,  nor  to  hear  the  servant  complain  to 
her  high-born  mamma  that  she  was  starved.  She  was 
firmly  established  now  in  the  excellent  position  of  a 
lady-in-waiting,  and  Cluudine  von  Gerold,  the  '  charm- 
ing, ever-to-be-remembered  Claudine,'  whose  hand  had 
been  'as  gentle  as  that  of  a  daughter,'  had  become 
impossible!  What  did  the  haughty  creature  want? 


276  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

She  had  found  a  powerful  protector.  Fraulein  von 
Bohlen  suddenly  blushed ;  she  would  fain  have  changed 
places  with  Claudine  von  Gerold. 

All  was  quiet  in  the  next  room.  Now  and  then 
Baron  Gerold's  voice  was  raised ;  on  a  sudden  a  shrill 
burst  of  laughter  from  the  Princess  Thekla  was  heard, 
and  the  next  moment  the  tall,  spare  figure  of  her  Grace 
in  its  rustling  silk  stood  beside  the  startled  lady-in- 
waiting. 

"  Princess  Helena !  Find  the  Princess  for  me !"  she 
panted,  and  the  hand  holding  her  ivory  fan  shook  as 
with  fever. 

Fraulein  von  Bohlen  flew  to  do  her  bidding,  and  the 
Princess  Helena,-  breathless  with  haste,  appeared. 

"  We  are  going  instantly  to  Neuhaus.  Where  is  the 
Countess  ?" 

"  In  heaven's  name,  mamma,  what  has  happened  ?" 
Helena  well  understood  the  mood  which  her  mother's 
face  betokened. 

"  Come  I"  was  the  reply. 

"No,  mamma,  dearest  mamma,  leave  me  herel  I 
cannot  bear  my  anxiety  at  Neuhaus  1"  the  Princess 
implored. 

"  Who  told  you  you  would  have  to  bear  it  there  ? 
We  are  going  to  Berlin  this  evening  by  the  express 
train.  Come!" 

"No,  I  cannot  1"  came  from  the  pale  lips.  "Do 
not  try  to  force  me.  I  should  escape  from  you  on  the 
way.  I  cannot  leave  here !" 

Anger  mastered  the  old  Princess;  she  seized  the 
girl's  delicate  arm  in  a  hard  grasp.  "En  avantl" 
she  exclaimed.  "  There  is  nothing  more  for  us  to  do 
here !" 

But  her  daughter  extricated  herself.     "  I  am  doing 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  277 

my  duty !"  she  cried,  almost  beside  herself,  and  fled  from 
the  room.  When  the  old  lady  followed  her  it  seemed  as 
if  the  air  had  absorbed  the  little  white  figure,  so  silent 
and  deserted  was  the  corridor. 

The  Princess  Thekla  drove  to  Neuhaus,  accompanied 
by  the  Countess  only.  The  carriage  holding  Beata 
and  the  children  rolled  along  the  road  before  her,  and 
the  joyous  shouts  of  her  little  grand-daughter  resounded 
in  her  ears. 

The  Countess  wore  a  very  pale  face  when  she  joined 
Frau  von  Berg.  The  young  girl  was  outraged  by  the 
treatment  she  had  received  at  the  hands  of  her  Grace 
during  the  drive.  "  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  go  directly  back 
to  mamma!"  she  cried.  "How  could  I  help  her  High- 
ness's  hemorrhage?" 

Frau  von  Berg's  face  had  worn  its  perpetual  smile, 
but  at  this  she  grew  grave.  "A  hemorrhage?"  she 
asked. 

"  Yes ;  and  a  very  serious  one.  They  have  tele- 
graphed to  H ." 

"And  Princess  Helena?" 

"  She  would  not  come  ;  she  seems  to  wish  to  spend 
her  time  on  the  threshold  of  the  sick-room." 

"And  where  is  the  Baron  ?" 

"  With  the  Dowager  Duchess ;  at  least  he  was  when 
we  came  away.  The  Bohlen  said  he  had  begged  the 
Dowager  Duchess  for  an  audience." 

"And  Fraulein  von  Gerold  ?" 

The  pretty  Countess  shrugged  her  shoulders: 
"Every  one  is  talking  about  her;  I  am  sorry  for  her. 
They  say  the  Duchess  has  discovered  her  husband's 
infidelity;  his  Highness  looks  as  if  he  would  like  to 
annihilate  humanity." 

"Good  heavens!  that  scandal  had  to  come  to  light 
24 


278  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

some  time,"  said  Frau  von  Berg.  "  But  where  in  the 
world  is  she  at  present?  In  the  tower  at  the  Owl's 
Nest,  spying  over  at  Altenstein  ?  or  has  she  thrown 
herself  into  the  pond  in  the  park, — the  haughty  Clau- 
dine  ?" 

Countess  Moorsleben  gazed  in  the  face  of  the  woman, 
who  could  not  conceal  her  satisfaction.  A  savage  joy 
gleamed  in  the  black  eyes, — not  the  joy  of  the  just  at 
the  confusion  of  the  evil-doer. 

"Frau  von  Berg,"  said  the  pretty  Countess,  mali- 
ciously, "  I  have  been  trying  all  the  morning  to  re- 
member the  origin  of  the  proverb,  '  People  who  live  in 
glass  houses  should  not  throw  stones.' " 

"  I  asked  you,  Countess,  what  became  of  Fraulein 
von  Gerold  after  so  striking  a  display  of  the  ducal  dis- 
pleasure ?" 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  dear  Frau  von  Berg,"  the 
Countess  replied,  as  gently  as  she  could.  "  You  know 
more  than  I  do.  Displeasure?  Striking  display? 
Fraulein  von  Gerold  is  sitting  at  her  Highness's  bed- 
side." 

Frau  von  Berg  gasped  for  breath  and  rustled  into 
her  Grace's  apartment,  the  bell  in  which  had  just  been 
ringing  a  perfect  alarum. 


The  Duchess  was  sleeping ;  profound  silence  reigned 
throughout  the  spacious  mansion. 

Baron  Gerold  was  sitting  in  the  room  of  Captain  von 
Einkleben ;  he  had  asked  permission  of  the  kindly 
officer  to  await  here  the  next  intelligence  with  regard 
to  her  Highness's  health.  He  had  lighted  a  cigar,  and 
then  let  it  go  out ;  he  had  taken  up  a  book,  but  he  was 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  279 

not  sufficiently  calm  to  read.  His  face  expressed  great 
distress,  and  a  tormenting  unrest  urged  him  to  pace  the 
room  incessantly. 

Herr  von  Palmer  had  bolted  his  door;  he  was  in 
the  worst  possible  humour.  This  was  a  delightful  day, 
forsooth !  In  the  morning  when  he  had  gone  to  his 
Highness's  study  to  discuss  some  necessary  changes 
and  additions  in  the  royal  residence  in  the  capital,  the 
Duke  had  received  him  with  an  air  of  surprise,  and 
an  open  letter.  It  was  a  confidential  communication 
from  Prince  Leopold,  his  cousin,  and  it  asked  how  it 
happened  that  for  three  years  no  payments  had  been 
made  by  the  Duke's  High  Steward  to  the  firm  of 
Schmidt  &  Bros.,  of  E.  on  the  Ehine.  The  head  of 
the  firm  had  now  entreated  the  intercession  of  the 
Prince,  since  all  direct  appeals  resulted  only  in  fresh 
orders,  while  any  reference  to  the  outstanding  account 
was  evaded.  Nay,  in  the  last  communication  the  firm 
had  been  informed  that  any  further  appeal  would  be 
followed  by  the  withholding  of  all  further  orders.  Herr 
von  Palmer  had  smiled  and  said  that  there  must  be 
some  gross  misunderstanding ;  his  Highness,  however, 
had  with  great  decision  expressed  the  wish  that  this 
matter  should  be  arranged  as  soon  and  as  perfectly  as 
possible. 

It  was  very  unpleasant,  very !  As  if  such  a  pack  of 
tradesfolk  could  expect  anything  save  to  give  credit  to 
all  eternity!  at  least  until  Herr  von  Palmer,  after  some 
years,  should  be  in  condition  to  depart  upon  his  travels. 
It  was  a  consolation  to  have  the  Berg  for  an  ally.  How 
brilliant  had  been  her  scheme  for  making  the  beauti- 
ful Gerold  'impossible'  on  the  Prince's  birthday!  The 
old  Duchess  had  dropped  Claudine;  even  his  High- 
ness would  not  have  the  courage  to  carry  on  his  love- 


280  THE  OWLS  NEST. 

affair  beneath  his  mother's  eye.  "Wonderful!  Quite 
wonderful ! 

Through  the  high,  broad  window  in  the  Duchess's  bed- 
room the  last  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  streaming. 

"  Claudine,"  whispered  a  weary  voice. 

The  girl,  who  had  been  sitting  lost  in  sorrowful 
thought,  rose  and  kneeled  beside  the  bed.  "  How  are 
you  now,  Elizabeth  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  better — better ;  I  feel  that  the  end  is  near." 

"  Do  not  talk  so,  Elizabeth  I" 

"  Is  there  any  one  here  to  overhear  us  ?" 

"  No,  Elizabeth ;  his  Highness  has  gone  to  the  little 
Princes,  the  dressing-maid  is  in  the  next  room,  Frau 
von  Katzenstein  is  with  the  Dowager  Duchess,  and 
the  Sister  who  has  been  summoned  to  nurse  you  is 
asleep  over  her  book  of  devotion." 

The  sick  woman  lay  motionless,  her  eyes  following 
the  red  spot  of  sunlight  on  the  picture  of  the  Madonna 
as  it  crept  higher  and  higher,  glittering  at  last  upon 
the  carving  of  the  gilt  frame,  and  then  vanished. 

"Why  had  you  no  confidence  in  me?"  she  suddenly 
asked,  sadly.  "  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  frankly  every- 
thing, everything  ?" 

"Elizabeth,  I  had  nothing  to  conceal  from  you." 

"  Do  not  lie,  Claudine  I"  the  Duchess  exclaimed, 
solemnly.  "No  falsehood  should  be  told  to  a  dying 
woman  I" 

Claudine  raised  her  head  proudly:  "I  have  never 
lied  to  you,  Elizabeth." 

A  bitter  smile  hovered  upon  her  Highness's  pale, 
emaciated  face. 

"  Your  every  look  has  lied  to  me  I"  was  uttered  with 
terrible  distinctness  and  coldness,  "  for  you  love  my 
husband." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  281 

A  cry  interrupted  her,  and  Claudine's  head  dropped 
heavily  upon  the  red  silk  coverlet  of  the  bed.  What 
she  had  feared  had  come  to  pass ;  she  learned  it  from 
the  lips  of  the  woman  whom  she  so  dearly  loved. 

"  I  do  not  reproach  you,  Claudine ;  I  only  want  you 
to  promise  me  that  after  my  death " 

"  Merciful  God  !"  the  girl  groaned  as  she  rose,  "  who 
has  aroused  in  your  mind  such  terrible  mistrust  of  me  ?" 

"Mistrust?  Eather  ask,  Who  opened  my  eyes  to 
perceive  the  terrible  truth  ?  And  he  loves  you, — he 
loves  you !"  the  Duchess  went  on,  in  a  whisper.  "  Oh, 
God,  it  is  so  natural  I" 

"  No !  no !"  Claudine  cried,  almost  beside  herself  as 
she  wrung  her  hands. 

"Hush I  hush!"  the  invalid  begged,  wearily;  "let 
us  talk  quietly ;  I  have  still  so  much  to  say." 

Claudine  felt  dizzy.  What  should  she  do  to  prove 
her  innocence? 

A  flush  coloured  the  invalid's  cheeks ;  she  breathed 
with  difficult}7. 

"Elizabeth,  believe  me,  trust  me  only  this  once  I" 
implored  the  girl. 

The  Duchess  suddenly  sat  up  in  bed.  "  Can  you 
swear,"  she  asked,  calmly, — "  can  you  swear  that  there 
never  has  been  a  word  of  love  spoken  between  the 
Duke  and  yourself?  Swear  this,  swear  it  by  your 
mother's  memory,  and  if  you  can  do  so  here  at  my 
death-bed  I  will  believe  you,  and  shall  know  that  my 
eyes  played  me  false." 

Claudine  stood  paralyzed ;  her  lips  moved  as  if  to 
speak,  but  no  sound  issued  from  them,  and  her  head 
suddenly  drooped  as  if  she  felt  annihilated. 

The  Duchess  sank  back  among  her  pillows.  "  That 
courage  you  still  lack,"  she  murmured. 

24* 


282  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Elizabeth !"  the  girl  entreated,  "  believe  me  !  be- 
lieve me  !  Good  God,  what  can  I  do  to  induce  you  to 
have  faith  in  me  ?  1  tell  you  again,  you  are  mistaken  1" 

"Hush!"  said  the  Duchess,  with  a  contemptuous 
smile. 

His  Highness  entered  at  this  instant.  "How  are 
you  now,  Liesel?"  he  asked,  kindly;  and,  leaning  over 
her,  he  tried  to  stroke  the  hair  aside  from  her  damp 
brow. 

"Do  not  touch  me!"  she  gasped,  her  eyes  opening 
wide  in  terror.  "  It  will  soon  be  over,"  she  whispered. 

Claudine  was  leaning  in  despair  against  the  door. 
The  Duke  approached  her,  and  asked,  in  a  low,  dis- 
tressed voice,  "  Is  her  Highness  delirious?" 

The  girl  suppressed  the  sobbing  cry  which  threat- 
ened to  break  from  her  lips,  and  tottered  into  the  next 
room. 

He  followed  her  in  much  agitation :  "  What  has 
happened  ?" 

The  sick  woman's  eyes  followed  them  to  the  door 
behind  which  they  disappeared.  All  her  fearful,  sup- 
pressed agony  convulsed  her  and  bewildered  her  poor 
thoughts;  she  lay  with  clinched  hands  and  burning 
eyes.  What!  could  they  not  have  some  consideration 
for  a  dying  woman  ?  And  she  had  meant  so  kindly  by 
them.  She  meant  to  arrange  in  her  last  will  that  they 
should  belong  to  each  other  in  future.  That  was  to  be 
her  revenge  for  her  ruined  happiness.  And  she,  she, — 
what  an  abyss  of  turpitude  the  girl's  soul  must  be, 
when  she  could  still  appeal  to  heaven  to  bear  witness 
to  her  innocence ! 

A  desperate,  stifling  dread  oppressed  her  aching 
breast.  Her  husband  re-entered  the  room  and  stood 
at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  looking  at  her  with  a  strange 


TEE  OWL'S  NEST.  283 

inquiry  in  his  eyes.  Claudine,  who  had  regained  her 
composure,  brought  a  glass  of  some  mixture.  "  Prink 
this,  Elizabeth,"  she  begged,  as  she  leaned  over  her  and 
put  her  arm  beneath  her  head.  "  Drink  this ;  you  are 
so  warm ;  it  is  what  always  refreshes  you." 

The  Duchess  lay  motionless,  with  compressed  lips, 
her  large  eyes  first  fixed  upon  the  girl's  pale  face  and 
then  turned  towards  her  husband.  The  glass  in  Clau- 
dine's  hand  began  to  tremble.  "Ah, please  drink!"  she 
entreated,  in  a  failing  voice. 

There  came  a  shrill  scream,  and  the  glass  was  hurled 
from  Claudine's  hand. 

"  Poison  !"  the  Duchess  shrieked,  sitting  erect  in  bed, 
with  the  expression  of  a  maniac,  and  with  extended 
arms.  "Poison!  Help!  Am  I  not  dying  quickly 
enough  for  you  ?" 

She  sank  back  exhausted,  a  fresh  stream  of  blood  from 
her  parted  lips  dyeing  her  night-dress  and  the  bed. 

Claudine,  who  had  fallen  upon  her  knees,  sprang 
up ;  she,  too,  looked  almost  insane.  By  a  superhuman 
effort,  she  controlled  herself,  rang  the  bell,  and  then 
helped  to  raise  the  sick  woman  and  lean  her  upon  the 
breast  of  the  Duke,  whose  pale  face  showed  him  to  be 
profoundly  agitated. 

"  Liesel  I"  he  murmured.  "  Why,  Liesel Al- 
mighty God ! " 

She  lay  with  closed  eyes,  as  if  dying. 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  room.  The  old  physician 
appeared,  and  looked  extremely  anxious.  He  consulted 
the  clock,  felt  the  patient's  weak  pulse,  and  shook  his 
head.  "  At  nine  o'clock  Professor  Thalheim  will  be  here, 
your  Highness,"  he  whispered  to  the  weeping  Dowager 
Duchess;  "but  until  then  there  must  be  rest,  entire 
rest,  with  no  show  of  anxiety  in  the  manner  of  those 


284  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

around  the  Duchess,  who  should  be  attended  as  usual. 
Meanwhile,  I  will  remain  in  the  next  room." 

"  Claudine  1"  whispered  the  sick  woman.  "  Clau- 
dine!" 

The  Dowager  Duchess  looked  around  for  the  girl ; 
she  had  vanished.  In  her  distress  the  old  lady  went 
out  into  the  corridor  and  asked  her  way  to  Fraulein 
von  Gerold's  room.  But  the  door  was  locked,  and 
nothing  was  stirring  inside. 

Claudine  was  prostrate  in  her  room,  incapable  of  one 
distinct  thought.  Had  it  come  to  this ? — to  this?  The 
world  thought  her  a  fallen  woman,  the  Duke's  mistress  I 
His  own  wife  was  dying  in  this  delusion ! 

Oh,  the  arrogant  folly  of  her  insane  pride !  If  she 
could  summon  the  stars  from  the  heavens  as  witnesses 
of  her  purity,  no  one  would  believe  her,  no  one, — neither 
the  dying  nor  the  living, — nor  he,  he  whose  warning 
she  had  rejected.  God  alone  knew  her  innocence,  and 
He  no  longer  works  miracles.  Lost!  Lost!  She  had 
become  the  blot  on  the  scutcheon  of  her  family ;  the 
whole  country  would  point  the  finger  of  scorn  at  her 
with,  "Look,  look,  that  is  she  who  broke  our  poor 
Duchess's  heart  I" 

Who  could  save  her?  The  Duke?  He  could  not 
enter  the  lists  for  her ;  they  would  all  pretend  to  be- 
lieve him,  and  laugh  in  their  sleeves.  Merciful  God, 
what  had  she  done  to  be  so  hated,  so  bitterly  hated  ? 

If  she  could  but  die !  She  could  not  then  wipe  out 
her  disgrace,  but  she  should  be  dead,  no  longer  able  to 
feel.  She  thought  and  thought,  and  a  voice  within 
seemed  to  suggest  the  little  lake  in  the  park.  How 
quiet  and  cool  it  was  there, — so  cool !  They  would 
perhaps  find  her  there,  and  people  would  say,  "  She 
had  some  sense  of  honour  left,  that  Claudine, — she 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  285 

could  not  live  with  guilt  upon  her  soul !"  One  only 
would  surely  say,  standing  beside  her  coffin,  "My 
sister,  my  pure,  proud  darling,  I  believe  in  you !" 

And  in  Neuhaus,  a  delicate  brunette  would  lean  her 
head  upon  its  master's  shoulder,  and  a  sweet  voice 
would  declare,  "  What  do  I  care,  Lothar,  for  the  stain 
brought  upon  your  name  by  one  of  your  race  ?  For- 
get it.  I  love  you  in  spite  of  it." 

A  knock  at  her  door  startled  her. 

"  Fraulein  von  Gerold," — it  was  Fraulein  von  Bohlen 
who  spoke, — "  the  Dowager  Duchess  wishes  to  see  you." 

She  walked  out  into  the  corridor  mechanically,  for- 
getting that  her  hair  was  loose  and  falling  down,  some 
golden  strands  hanging  across  her  brow,  forgetting 
that  she  had  on  a  loose  morning-wrapper.  As  one 
in  a  dream  she  entered  the  apartment,  where  the 
candles  had  not  yet  been  lit,  and  where  upon  the  bright 
rug  the  moonlight  lay  in  two  broad,  gleaming  strips. 

"Claudine!"  said  a  gentle  voice  from  the  window. 

She  crossed  the  room  and  courtesied. 

"Sit  down,  Claudine." 

But  she  made  no  movement  to  obey.  She  stood  as 
if  paralyzed.  " Is  the  Duchess  dying?"  she  asked, 
hoarsely. 

"  Her  life  is  in  God's  hand,  Claudine." 

"  Oh,  through  me  !  through  me !"  the  girl  murmured. 

The  Duchess  made  no  reply.  "  I  have  a  question  to 
put  to  you,  Claudine,"  the  old  lady  began  at  last,  "a 
strange  question  at  this  moment,  when  the  angel  of 
Death  is  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  house;  but  he  for 
whom  I  ask  it  has  made  it  my  duty  to  do  so  imme- 
diately. Baron  Gerold  begs  you,  Claudine,  to  replace 
the  mother  of  his  orphaned  child, — to  be  his  wife." 

"Ah,  your  Highness!"   Claudine  all  but   shrieked, 


286  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

recoiling  a  step  and  leaning  heavily  against  the  frame 
of  the  window.  "  I  thank  him  and  decline,"  she  said. 
"  I  require  no  sacrifice  of  him." 

"  Very  good !"  the  old  Duchess  rejoined,  sternly. 
"  You  have  it  in  your  power  to  silence  at  one  stroke 
all  slanderous  tongues ;  you  have  it  in  your  power  to 
restore  to  life  for  a  while  a  fleeting  existence,  that  it 
may  fade  away  in  peace." 

*'  Your  Highness !"  groaned  the  girl. 

"My  poor,  unhappy  daughter!"  sighed  the  old  lady. 

"  I  would  give  my  life  for  the  Duchess,  your  High- 
ness ;  but  do  not  ask  this  humiliation  of  me  I" 

"Your  life?    That  is  easily  said,  Claudine." 

"  Oh  that  I  could  prove  it !"  she  exclaimed,  confront- 
ing the  old  Duchess  with  clasped  hands.  She  stood 
just  in  the  full  light  of  the  moon,  which  revealed  the 
utter  despair  in  her  eyes,  in  her  entire  figure. 

The  Duchess  was  startled.  "But,  Claudine,  Clau- 
dine!" she  said,  soothingly. 

"Does  your  Highness  really  believe  me  dishon- 
oured?" she  asked.  The  question  was  put  brokenly, 
hurriedly. 

"  No,  my  child  ;  Baron  Gerold  would  never  ask  a 
dishonoured  woman  to  be  his  wife." 

She  recoiled.  "  Ah,  it  is  only  for  that !"  she  stam- 
mered. 

"  I  found  it  very  hard  to  put  any  faith  in  the  scan- 
dal," the  old  lady  continued.  "  But,  child,  I  know  life, 
I  know  my  son's  inflammable  temperament,  and  his 
power  over  the  hearts  of  women ;  and  you  who  fled 
from  him, — you  I  knew  to  be  suddenly  thrown  with 
him  daily.  Child,  child,  I  believe  that  you  are  only  the 
Duchess's  friend;  but  you  have  arrogantly  ventured 
to  risk  your  reputation.  You  have  failed  to  avoid  the 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  287 

appearance  of  evil,  and  therefore  you  should  take  the 
hand  which  is  held  out  to  you,"  she  added,  earnestly. 
"No  one  will  dare,  not  even  the  most  slanderous,  to 
declare  that  Lothar  von  Gerold  takes  a  woman  to  his 
heart  who  is  not  pure  as  snow.  And  he — my  son — 
would  never  let  his  eyes  rest  upon  one  who  belonged 
to  another." 

"I  am  incapable  of  deciding,  your  Highness." 

"  You  must  decide,  my  child  ;  Baron  Lothar  is  waiting 
below,  a  prey  to  hope  and  fear." 

"Your  Highness,"  implored  the  girl,  "he  does  not 
love  me;  he  is  making  a  sacrifice  to  the  honour  of  our 
name.  I  cannot  accept  it.  Have  pity  upon  me !" 

"  Sacrifice  yourself!"  exclaimed  the  illustrious  lady, 
irritated  by  opposition.  "  Is  your  honour  not  worth 
such  a  sacrifice  ?  Is  she,  now  lying  there  struggling 
with  death,  not  worth  it?" 

"Your  Highness,"  whispered  Claudine,  and  a  sudden 
thought  shot  through  her  poor,  tortured  brain,  "  I  will 
— I  will  speak  with  Baron  Gerold." 

The  Duchess  took  pity  upon  the  wretched  girl ;  she 
poured  out  a  glass  of  water  and  brought  it  to  her. 
"  Calm  yourself  first,  and  then  he  shall  come,"  she  said, 
gently. 

"  The  Herr  Medizinalrath,"  Fraulein  von  Bohlen  an- 
nounced, entering  at  the  moment,  while  close  behind 
her  appeared  the  physician's  short  figure. 

"Your  Highness  must  excuse  my  intrusion,"  he 
began,  hurriedly.  "  I  consider  it  my  duty  to  inform 
your  Highness  that  our  illustrious  patient  is  in  extreme 
peril.  Her  Highness  is  exhausted  to  the  point  of  death 
by  loss  of  blood.  Professor  Thalheim  advises  trans- 
fusion ;  I  do  not  disapprove.  No  means  should  be  left 
untried.  His  Highness  is  determined  to  supply  the 


288  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

required  blood  ;  but,  since  it  is  always  a  delicate  opera- 
tion,— it  may  have  consequences,  such  as  blood-poison- 
ing, and  so  forth,  which  would  imperil  life, — we  cannot 
avail  ourselves  of  his  Highness's  resolve  ;  in  the  family 
annals  it  is  expressly  forbidden " 

He  hesitated.  Claudine  hastily  approached  him  and 
held  out  her  hand :  "  Herr  Medizinalrath,  I  entreat  to 
be  allowed  to  be  the  one  to " 

"You?"  the  old  man  asked,  looking  with  amazement 
at  the  girl's  pale  face,  now  full  of  beseeching  earnest- 
ness. "  You,  Fraulein  von  Gerold  ?  Well,  then,  come 
instantly!  There  is  no  time  to  lose.  But  stay.  I 
must  remind  you  that  we  must  open  an  artery." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  doctor!"  said  Claudine,  in  a  tone  and 
with  a  shrug  that  seemed  to  say,  '  If  that  be  all !'  She 
hurried  on  before  him,  forgetting  all  etiquette  in  her 
dread  lest  another  should  precede  her. 

The  old  Duchess  had  scarcely  comprehended.  Trans- 
fusion ?  What  is  transfusion  ?  When  she  entered  the 
young  Duchess's  antechamber  both  physicians  were 
busied  about  the  patient.  Beside  Claudine  stood  the 
Sister,  rolling  up  the  sleeve  of  the  girl's  white  cache- 
mire  morning-gown.  The  old  lady  laid  her  hand  on 
her  son's  shoulder ;  he  had  just  retired  from  his  wife's 
bedside  to  the  antechamber,  where  Frau  von  Katzen- 
etein  and  the  dressing-maid  were  standing  with  faces 
of  distress. 

"Adalbert,"  she  asked,  in  a  whisper, — "Adalbert, 
what  does  this  mean?  The  doctor  said  they  must 
open  an  artery.  Is  it  to  pour  her  blood  into  Liesel's 
veins?" 

He  nodded  absently ;  his  eyes  never  moved  from  the 
girl's  face  with  its  melancholy  smile. 

"  In  heaven's  name,  Adalbert,"  the  old  Duchess  went 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  289 

on,  i(  can  we  allow  Fraulein  von  Gerold It  seems 

a  very  dangerous  thing." 

He  turned  and  looked  at  her.  "Does  it  not?"  he 
asked,  bitterly,  in  a  low  tone.  "It  requires  rather 
more  courage  than  is  needed  to  shoot  from  some  secure 
hiding-place  the  arrow  which  will  mortally  wound  a 
poor  woman  and  besmirch  the  reputation  of  an  inno- 
cent girl.  I  cannot  prevent  her  from  thus  sacrificing 
herself,"  he  went  on,  shrugging  his  shoulders, — "  I 
least  of  all,  lest  it  should  be  said  I  cared  more  for  her 
life  than  for  my  wife's." 

The  Sister  now  closed  the  curtains ;  Claudine's  white, 
lovely  figure  alone  was  seen  for  an  instant  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  room,  looking  like  a  sacrificial  priestess  of 
mercy.  "Arm  to  arm,  doctor,"  the  professor's  voice 
said  ;  "  it  is  surer." 

But  the  Duke  neither  saw  nor  heard :  he  had  left  the 
room.  He  was  pacing  the  Duchess's  drawing-room  to 
and  fro  in  intense  agitation ;  the  apartment  was  the 
same  in  which  he  had  told  Claudine  of  his  passion. 
At  this  moment  he  would  have  given  years  of  his  life 
to  obliterate  the  memory  of  that  hour.  "  Poor  girl ! 
Poor  woman !"  This  he  had  not  meant.  He  had 
snatched  at  this  pleasure  with  the  eagerness  of  a  man 
accustomed  to  conquer.  He  had  conceived  a  genuine 
passion  for  his  mother's  beautiful  lady-in-waiting ;  she 
had  repulsed  him,  and  he  had  accepted  the  repulse ;  for 
the  first  time  he  had  bowed  before  a  woman  of  strong 
character;  but  his  fault  had  brought  a  fate  with  it. 
Who,  in  the  name  of  heaven,  could  have  slandered 
Claudine  to  the  Duchess? 

A  single  candle  was  burning  in  the  candelabrum  upon 
the  chimney-piece,  just  as  on  that  ill-fated  evening. 

His  Highness's  forehead  was  covered  with  cold 
N  t  25 


290  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

moisture.  "  Oh  for  only  time  enough,"  he  muttered, 
"to  explain  to  her!  time  enough  to  prevent  her  from 
dying  in  the  belief  that  I  am  guilty !" 

There  is  something  mighty  and  sacred  in  a  wife's 
love.  She  had  deified  him  in  spite  of  his  faults,  of  his 
coldness,  of  his  indifference.  He  saw  in  fancy  her  eyes 
riveted  upon  him  with  the  old  ardent  devotion  in  them 
from  which  he  had  so  often  turned  away  impatiently. 
He  heard  her  soft  voice  often  adopting  the  pretty 
patois  of  the  province,  and  her  'Eh,  my  Adalbert?' 
She  had  always  lived  so  quietly,  had  been  so  grateful 
for  every  crumb  of  affection  which  he  had  thrown  her, 
so  happy  at  every  tender  word,  so  modest  in  her 
claims.  Her  little  faults,  her  weaknesses,  which  he 
had  at  times  thought  intolerable,  how  small  they 
looked  to  him  now ! 

He  stood  at  the  window  and  recalled  this  day  eleven 
years  before.  Then,  too,  they  had  feared  for  her  life. 
He  saw  himself  beside  her  bed, — beside  the  cradle  of 
his  first-born.  She  had  lain  there  so  pale,  but  her 
eyes  had  beamed ;  in  spite  of  her  weariness  she  had 
smiled  proudly.  He  had  given  her  only  formal  words 
of  gratitude;  all  his  interest  had  been  for  his  child, 
the  heir;  she  had  but  fulfilled  her  duty. — Suddenly  he 
leaned  his  head  against  the  window-frame  and  passed 
his  hand  over  his  eyes.  Would  they  never  come  to  say 
how  all  was  going  in  the  sick-room  ? 

The  entire  castle  seemed  under  a  spell ;  the  lamps 
burned  dimly  in  the  corridors,  and  lackeys  were  stand- 
ing about  with  distressed  faces.  In  the  apartments 
below-stairs  of  the  gentlemen-in-waiting  conversation 
was  carried  on  in  undertones;  in  the  nursery  the 
governess  and  the  nurse  looked  at  each  other  sadly 
and  significantly,  and  in  the  kitchens  the  servants 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  291 

whispered  together  and  told  frightful  stories.  The 
head  of  the  linen-room  had  distinctly  seen  the  White 
Lady,  in  the  moonlight,  on  the  great  staircase  in  the 
left  wing,  gliding  along  step  by  step  slowly,  and  with 
her  head  bent,  as  the  spectre  was  wont  to  appear  when 
a  death  was  imminent ;  and  the  old  woman  mimicked 
her,  and  the  eyes  of  her  audience  grew  large  with 
terror. 

Every  one  knew  that  a  last  attempt  was  making  to 
save  the  Duchess's  life,  and  Fraulein  von  Gerold's  name 
was  on  every  one's  lips. 

In  Herr  von  Palmer's  room  sat  Frau  von  Berg;  she 
had  been  sent  by  Helena's  illustrious  mamma  to  fetch 
the  Princess  home,  and  had  improved  the  opportunity 
to  say  'good-evening'  to  her  friend,  to  inquire  as  to 
the  state  of  affairs,  and  to  announce  the  astounding  in- 
telligence that  the  Baron,  in  presence  of  the  Princess 
Thekla,  had  made  application  to  the  Dowager  Duchess 
for  his  cousin's  hand. 

The  stately  woman  was  dumfounded.  "If  I  only 
had  the  Princess  safe  in  the  carriage !"  she  wailed, 
rising  and  pacing  the  apartment  to  and  fro,  while  Herr 
von  Palmer  grew  very  restless  in  his  rocking-chair. 
"  There  is  no  knowing  what  folly  she  may  not  commit 
in  an  access  of  penitence." 

Yes,  the  Princess, — where  was  the  Princess  ? 

The  old  linen-room  woman  had  seen  the  White  Lady ; 
it  had  been  the  little  Princess,  and  her  bowed  head  and 
slow  walk  were  due  to  her  knowledge  that  her  Highness 
was  likely  to  die,  and  that  Fraulein  von  Gerold  was  in 
peril.  She  had  learned  it  from  the  broken  phrases  of 
the  old  dressing-maid,  whom  she  had  encountered  talk- 
ing with  the  linen-room-keeper,  upon  her  return  from 
the  garden,  into  the  depths  of  which  her  distress  had 


292  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

driven  her,  and  where  she  had  gone  that  she  might  for 
a  while  not  even  see  the  castle  which  misfortune  was 
visiting  through  her  fault. 

Her  faltering  steps  had  carried  her  to  the  Duchess's 
drawing-room,  and  there  she  had  seen  the  Duke  stand- 
ing by  the  window,  and  when  he  turned  round  she  had 
perceived  by  the  dim  light  that  the  handsome  face, 
usually  so  cool  and  unmoved,  wore  a  heart-breaking 
expression  of  misery,  and  the  eyes  showed  traces  of 
tears.  It  was  more  than  she  could  bear ! 

In  an  instant  she  was  on  her  knees  before  him,  his 
hand  clasped  in  hers,  pouring  out  in  a  confused,  in- 
distinct way  a  flood  of  self-accusation,  and  confessing 
everything.  He  did  not  interrupt  her;  when  she 
ceased,  exhausted,  he  asked  one  question  : 

"  The  note,  Helena  ?  How  in  heaven's  name  did  you 
come  into  possession  of  the  only  note  which  I  ever 
wrote  to  Claudine,  and  which  her  Highness  has  evi- 
dently entirely  misunderstood  ?" 

"  In  it  your  Highness  begged  Claudine,  in  spite  of  it, 
to  remain  the  friend  of  your  wife." 

"  In  spite  of  my  having  offended  Fraulein  von  Gerold, 
—of  course !" 

"Cousin,  cousin,  punish  me!"  cried  the  Princess; 
"  tell  me  what  I  shall  do  to  atone " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders :  "  How  did  you  come  by 
the  note?" 

"  Frau  von  Berg "  stammered  the  Princess,  and 

sank  on  the  floor.  The  Duke  lifted  her  up,  led  her  to 
an  arm-chair,  and,  without  another  word,  turned  on 
his  heel  and  left  the  room. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  293 

The  operation  was  over ;  the  Duchess  had  regained 
some  colour,  and  her  pulse  was  stronger.  Claudine's 
healthy  stream  of  life  seemed  to  have  lent  her  fresh 
vigour :  it  was  like  a  miracle.  She  lay  sleeping  softly, 
while  the  fragrant  breath  of  the  summer  night  was 
wafted  in  through  the  open  window,  and  profound 
silence  reigned  in  the  room,  save  for  the  gentle,  regular 
breathing  of  the  sick  woman. 

Claudine  was  in  her  room,  with  her  arm  bandaged. 
She  felt  very  weary  j  it  was  not  alone  the  consequence 
of  the  loss  of  blood,  the  exhausting  agitation  of  the 
entire  day  now  had  its  effect.  Her  limbs  all  but  refused 
to  sustain  her,  and  yet  she  declined,  with  a  persistence 
bordering  on  obstinacy,  to  lie  down.  She  still  had  to 
speak  with  Baron  Gerold,  she  said,  and  would  then 
drive  immediately  home. 

The  old  Duchess,  who  had  followed  her  from  her  High- 
ness's  bedside  to  overwhelm  her  with  thanks,  entreated 
her  like  an  anxious  mother  to  postpone  the  interview  ; 
she  needed  repose  after  the  operation ;  but  Claudine  per- 
sisted in  her  desire.  "  I  cannot  do  things  by  halves," 
she  declared,  with  unusual  calm  and  great  seriousness. 

The  professor,  who  was  called  to  help  to  dissuade 
her,  was  wellnigh  rude.  "  Well,  then,"  said  he,  after 
his  peremptory  fashion,  "  let  the  interview  take  place, 
but  the  drive  must  be  postponed.  And  now  drink  a 
glass  of  wine  I"  He  held  the  glass  to  her  lips  with  a 
look  that  admitted  of  no  disobedience ;  reluctantly  she 
sipped  a  little.  But  when  she  heard  steps  in  the  cor- 
ridor she  turned  to  the  old  Duchess:  "Your  Highness 
will  allow  me  to  speak  with  my  cousin  alone." 

The  old  Duchess  withdrew,  with  a  troubled  shake 
of  the  head  ;  Frau  von  Katzenstein  and  the  professor 
followed  her. 

25* 


294  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Good  luck  to  you,  my  dear  Baron,"  the  Duchess 
whispered  to  Lothar,  who  bowed  low  as  he  passed  her. 

"No  excitement,  Herr  Baron,"  was  the  professor's 
warning ;  "  say  '  yes'  to  everything,  no  matter  what  it 
may  be." 

He  entered  almost  with  impatience.  He  had  been 
wandering  restlessly  in  the  park,  where  the  footman 
sent  to  search  for  him  had  found  him,  and  he  had  no 
suspicion  of  all  that  had  been  taking  place  in  the 
castle.  His  startled  gaze  fell  upon  the  bandage  and 
the  sling  in  which  Claudine's  arm  hung,  upon  the 
loose  morning-dress,  the  dishevelled  hair,  and  the  pale, 
changed  face  of  the  beautiful  girl. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  his  eyes  asked,  but  no  word 
issued  from  his  lips ;  he  silently  pointed  to  the  bandage. 

"  A  trifle,"  she  replied,  motioning  him  to  a  chair ; 
"  nothing  more  than  a  tiny  wound  made  by  the  physi- 
cian's lancet ;  some  blood  was  needed  for  the  Duchess. 
And  now  for  the  matter  in  hand,  Baron." 

"And  you  can  speak  of  it  as  if  it  were  nothing!"  he 
exclaimed.  "  Do  you  not  know  that  it  might  have  been 
death  ?" 

"  You  forget  who  conducted  the  operation ;  and  if  it 
had  been " 

"  You,  of  course,  have  no  one  in  the  world  who 
would  suffer  from  your  loss;  no  one  of  whom  you 
should  first  have  asked,  'May  I  do  it?  Have  I  the 
right  to  risk  my  health,  and  possibly  my  life?'  " 

"  Yes,  one  person  there  is,"  she  replied, — "  Joachim. 
But  there  was  no  time." 

"Joachim!"  he  repeated,  with  the  same  bitterness 
that  had  characterized  his  previous  words.  "Was  I 
not  worth  a  thought  ? — I,  who  had  just  sued  for  your 
life  for  myself,  for  my  child  ?"  he  asked,  more  gently. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  295 

Suddenly  Claudine  grew  dizzy,  and  sank  into  the 
chair  beside  which  she  had  been  standing. 

"  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  that,"  she  began, 
looking  past  him.  <;  I  promised  the  Dowager  Duchess 
to  assent ;  it  shall  not  last  long.  You  are  so  inexpres- 
sibly magnanimous,  cousin.  Indeed,  I  do  not  know  how 
to  thank  you.  I  could  do  so  fitly  only  by  declining  to 
take  advantage  of  your  magnanimity  and " 

He  stood  motionless,  looking  at  her. 

"  And  that,"  she  continued,  "  would  be  to  decline  to 
employ  a  means  for  lengthening  the  life  of  one  who 
has  been  deeply  injured, — so  says  the  Dowager  Duchess. 
Therefore  I  cannot  do  it;  forgive  me.  But  I  have  a 
plan :  betrothal  does  not  necessarily  mean  marriage. 
If  the  Duchess  recovers,  we  can  part;  if  she  dies,  of 
course  we  can  do  the  same.  It  is  only  a  measure  for 
soothing  her ;  a  little  heroic,  I  grant,  but  a  betrothal 
is  only  a  promise,  and  we  all  know  that  not  every 
promise  is  kept.  Heaven  knows,  many  part  before 
marriage  ;  it  is  no  disgrace.  I — I " 

She  had  spoken  more  and  more  rapidly;  now  she 
leaned  her  fair  head  back  among  the  cushions  of  the 
chair  and  closed  her  eyes.  He  had  approached  her, 
his  features  working  strangely. 

"I,"  she  began  again, — "  I  cannot  leave  here ;  but  you, 
Lothar,  you  are  free.  After  the  announcement,  which 
unfortunately  cannot  be  avoided,  of  this  betrothal,  you 
can  easily  find  a  reason  for  visiting  some  distant  place 

until "     And  she  suddenly  sat  erect.     "I  am  not 

speaking  for  myself,  G-od  knows  !  Why  should  I  ?  My 
clear  conscience  suffices  mo  entirely.  But  that  unfor- 
tunate woman, — do  you  understand,  Lothar  ?" 

"  We  are  to  play  a  farce,  then?"  he  asked. 

"  Not  for  long!  not  for  long  !"  she  whispered,  while 


296  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

her  lovely,  weary  eyes  met  his,  as  though  beseeching 
forgiveness. 

He  clasped  her  right  hand  with  a  quick,  passionate 
gesture.  "  So  be  it,"  he  said ;  "  but  you  are  ill,  and 
first,  before  the  farce  begins " 

"Let  it  begin  immediately,"  she  begged.  "Go  to 
the  Dowager  Duchess  and  inform  her  that  I  have  con- 
sented. Meanwhile,  I  will  make  ready  for  the  drive 
home.  I  am  so  tired,  so  worn  out." 

"  I  will  go,"  he  said,  calmly,  "  and  you  will  lie  down ; 
you  will  not  drive  home." 

"But  I  will!"  she  exclaimed,  angrily,  and  changed 
colour.  "  Do  not  forget  that  it  is  only  a  farce ;  that 
you  and  I  can  have  our  own  way  in  spite  of  it." 

He  controlled  himself  and  went. 

'  Say  yes !'  the  physician  had  said,  '  only — yes  !' 
Claudine  gazed  after  him  as  in  a  dream ;  she  felt  her 
strength  leaving  her;  she  was  weak  and  humiliated. 
She  would  have  liked  to  tear  the  bandage  from  her 
arm  and  let  her  life  escape  with  the  blood  from  the 
little  wound.  Involuntarily  she  plucked  at  it.  On  a 
sudden  all  sorts  of  colours  danced  before  her  eyes; 
everything  wavered  and  grew  indistinct;  her  chair 
seemed  beginning  to  rock  ;  she  tried  to  steady  it,  and 
made  a  grasp  in  the  air.  "  Stop,"  she  whispered,  but 
all  about  her  seemed  spinning  furiously  around;  her 
head  sank  back,  she  felt  herself  lifted  on  high,  and 
then  knew  no  more. 

The  Sister  who  came  to  look  after  her  by  the  phy- 
sician's orders  found  her  in  a  dead  faint.  With  the 
noiseless  dexterity  of  her  calling,  she  soon  restored  the 
girl  to  consciousness. 

"  It  is  nothing  but  exhaustion,  Herr  Baron,"  said  the 
little  doctor,  whom  Lothar  brought  from  the  gentle- 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  297 

men's  rooms,  where  both  physicians  were  sitting  with 
the  chamberlain.  "Nothing  more.  Let  the  patient 
be  perfectly  quiet  and  undisturbed,  and  to-morrow  she 
will  be  all  right.  How  could  it  be  otherwise,  with 
such  youth  and  health  ?  Drive  to  Neuhaus  without 
an  anxiety,  my  dear  Baron." 

Herr  von  Gerold  saw  the  waiting-maid  himself,  and 
enjoined  it  upon  her  to  summon  the  Sister  if  there 
should  be  any  change  in  Fraulein  Claudine,  and  he 
then  begged  Frau  von  Katzenstein  to  see  his  cousin. 

The  old  lady  went  immediately  to  Claudine's  room 
to  give  him  the  latest  intelligence  of  her,  and  he  stood 
without,  waiting.  He  heard  Claudine's  voice.  With 
whom  was  she  speaking?  He  could  hear  every  word  dis- 
tinctly, for  Frau  von  Katzenstein  had  left  the  door  ajar. 

"Forgive  me!"  was  spoken  loudly  by  the  voice  of 
the  Princess  Helena ;  not  in  a  tone  of  entreaty,  rather 
in  that  of  command. 

Lothar  frowned ;  he  had  to  put  a  force  upon  himself 
to  refrain  from  entering  instantly. 

Frau  von  Katzenstein  discreetly  returned.  "Her 
Grace  is  with  Fraulein  von  Gerold,"  she  whispered. 

"  His  Highness  has  ordered  me  to  beg  your  pardon, 
Fraulein  von  Gerold,"  the  same  voice  spoke  again. 
"Therefore  I  now  beg  you  to  forgive  me.  Do  you 
hear?" 

Indignantly  the  Baron  crossed  the  threshold  of  the 
dimly-lighted  room.  The  white  face  of  the  girl  lying 
among  the  cushions  of  the  lounge  flushed  crimson  at 
sight  of  him. 

"  Oh,  heavens !"  she  stammered,  with  a  deprecatory 
wave  of  her  sound  arm.  Her  heart  throbbed  so  vio- 
lently that  she  could  say  no  more. 

It  did  not  surprise  her  to  have  him  appear  thus  in 


298  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

her  room ;  all  that  she  thought  of  was  the  crushing 
blow  about  to  fall  upon  the  wayward  little  creature 
who  had  come  so  arrogantly  '  to  apologize  by  his  High- 
ness's  command.' 

The  Princess  had  not  perceived  him ;  she  stood  like 
the  embodiment  of  obstinacy.  At  sight  of  her  whom 
she  hated,  all  her  self-reproach  had  turned  to  anger. 

"You  will  not?"  she  asked.  "I  have  not  long  to 
wait;  I  must  return  to  Neuhaus.  Mamma  has  sent 
Frau  von  Berg  for  me,  but  I  shall  not  drive  back  with 
her, — I  do  not  choose  to ;  I  shall  ask  Baron  Gerold  for 
his  carriage.  For  the  third  time,  then, — will  you  for- 
give me,  Fraulein  von  Gerold  ?'' 

"  I  do  not  know,  Princess,  what  it  is  that  I  am  asked 
to  forgive,  but  I  do  so  with  all  my  heart,"  Claudine 
replied,  with  quivering  lips. 

"  Your  Grace," — it  was  Lothar  who  spoke,  and  his 
voice  betrayed  agitation, — "  this  mode  of  begging  for- 
giveness of  one  who  has  been  deeply  offended,  and  who 
is  at  present  suffering,  is  surely  new." 

The  Princess  turned  as  if  from  an  electric  shock. 
Claudine's  eyes  sought  his  in  appeal;  she  held  her 
breath.  Ah,  she  knew  from  sad  experience  the  terrible 
effect  of  the  knowledge  that  one  loved  is  lost  to  us ! 

"  It  needs  all  the  kindness  and  magnanimity  of  my 
betrothed  to  grant  the  forgiveness  asked  by  your  Grace 
in  so  strange  a  fashion." 

It  was  said.  Entire  silence  reigned  in  the  room, — 
everything  swam  before  Claudine's  eyes.  What !  could 
a  man  treat  thus  harshly  her  whom  he  loved,  whom 
he  had  wooed  for  weeks  ?  Was  it  done  in  despair  at 
being  forced  to  resign  her? 

She  stretched  out  her  hand.  "  Princess,"  she  said, 
faintly,  as  if  to  ask  forgiveness  in  her  turn. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  299 

But  the  delicate  white  figure  did  not  shrink,  as  Clau- 
dine  had  feared ;  the  short  curls  were  shaken  back 
with  a  haughty  toss  of  the  head.  "  Accept  my  con- 
gratulations," she  said.  In  the  loud,  forced  voice  alone 
could  Claudine  perceive  the  terrible  agitation  of  the  girl 
whose  passionate  love  had  just  received  its  death-blow. 

The  Princess  would  not  notice  the  hand  extended  to 
her.  "Attend  me,  Baron!"  she  said,  imperiously. 

Lothar  took  the  offered  hand  in  her  stead,  and 
carried  it  to  his  lips ;  Claudine  withdrew  it  hastily. 

"No  need,"  she  said,  turning  her  face  towards  the 
wall;  "it  is  quite  superfluous,  after  what  we  have 
agreed." 

They  were  gone.  Claudine  rang  the  bell,  and  was 
undressed,  and  the  candles  were  extinguished.  Frau 
von  Katzenstein  slipped  cautiously  into  the  dark  room 
and  stood  beside  the  bed.  Nothing  was  stirring  behind 
its  curtains;  the  patient  was  probably  sleeping  the 
sleep  of  exhaustion.  But  as  the  old  lady's  eyes  became 
accustomed  to  the  darkness,  she  perceived  the  girl  sit- 
ting up  in  bed. 

"But,  Claudine,  are  you  not  yet  sleeping?"  whis- 
pered her  kindly  old  friend,  kissing  the  beautiful  face. 
"  I  have  just  heard  of  your  betrothal.  God  bless  this 
union  of  hearts,  my  dearest  Gerold!"  Then  she 
quietly  departed. 

Claudine  put  her  hand  to  her  head.  "Union  of 
hearts !"  she  said,  bitterly.  "  What  a  mockery  1" 

She  pondered  and  reflected  far  into  the  night,  until 
her  thoughts  grew  confused.  The  most  terrible  day 
of  her  life  was  over.  What  misery  and  heartache 
were  to  follow  it  ? 


300  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

Early  the  next  morning  Claudine  was  roused  from 
a  profound  sleep  by  a  messenger  from  the  Dowager 
Duchess  bringing  her  a  delicious  bouquet  and  a  dia- 
mond ring. 

It  pained  her, — obliging  her  to  remember  the  pre- 
vious day, — and  she  rose  by  a  great  effort.  The  Duch- 
ess's waiting-maid  appeared  just  as  she  was  dressed, 
and  summoned  her  to  the  sick-room. 

With  weary  steps  she  crossed  its  threshold.  The 
entire  crimson  apartment  was  filled  with  sunshine ; 
the  Duke  was  standing  at  his  wife's  bedside  with  the 
little  Princes :  the  two  younger  ones  had  their  hands 
filled  with  roses,  the  eldest  held  something  that  spar- 
kled and  shone. 

The  Duke  approached  her  and  kissed  her  hand. 
"Accept  my  most  fervent  gratitude  and  that  of  my 
sons  for  your  eager  self-sacrifice,"  he  said,  as  he  led 
her  to  the  bedside.  "  See  for  yourself,  Fraulein  von 
Gerold,  what  an  eifect  it  has  had !" 

The  Duchess  held  out  her  hands  to  her,  while  the 
eldest  Prince  threw  his  arms  around  her.  "  I  always 
knew,"  he  said,  "  that  you  were  brave,  Fraulein  von 
Gerold,  and  this  we  give  you,  my  brothers  and  I,  for 
making  our  mamma  well  again." 

He  handed  her  a  costly  necklace,  and  the  others  held 
out  their  roses  to  her. 

"  Claudine,"  whispered  the  Duchess.  She  kneeled 
as  she  had  been  wont  to  do  beside  the  bed,  but  she 
did  not,  as  formerly,  lay  her  cheek  confidingly  against 
her  friend's.  She  waited,  like  one  of  the  old  pictured 
saints  in  the  castle  chapel,  with  downcast  eyes  and  im- 
movable features.  "Oh,  why  should  you  thank  me? 
I  have  done  nothing,"  she  said. 

The  Duchess,  unperceived  by  Claudine,  made  a  sign 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  301 

to  her  husband  to  withdraw.  He  softly  left  the  room, 
followed  by  the  two  elder  boys ;  the  baby  alone  re- 
mained, sitting  on  the  bed,  playing  with  the  roses. 

"  Thanks,  Claudine,  a  thousand  thanks!  And  take, 
too,  my  heartfelt  hopes  for  your  happiness  in  your  be- 
trothal ;  I  learned  it  a  while  ago  from  mamma.  It  sur- 
prised me,  Claudine.  Why  did  you  never  tell  me  that 
you  loved  him  ?" 

Claudine  was  mute ;  then  she  collected  herself.  If 
she  played  her  part  so  ill,  the  entire  scheme  would  be 
of  no  avail.  Here,  above  all,  she  must  be  brave. 

"  It  was  so  hard — so  hard  for  me  to  speak  of  it,"  she 
stammered.  "  I  did  not  know  whether  my  love  were 
returned." 

The  Duchess  pressed  her  hand.  "  Claudine,"  she 
whispered,  "do  you  know — I  pity  the  Duke;  he  loves 
you!" 

"  No,  no,  your  Highness  !"  exclaimed  the  girl ;  "  he 
does  not  love  me !" 

"  Yes,  Claudine,"  the  invalid  insisted.  "  I  had  a  note 
of  his  to  you " 

Claudine  started  up:  "A  note?  I  never  had  but 
one  note  from  his  Highness,  and  that " 

"Hush!"  whispered  the  Duchess;  "I  know.  Yester- 
day I  did  not  understand  it ;  this  morning  Adalbert 
himself  explained  to  me  what  it  meant.  He  told  me 
all;  it  was  no  easy  task  for  him.  I  know  everything, 
Claudine,  and  I  pity  him,  for  now  you  are  lost  to  him." 

"Elizabeth,"  stammered  the  girl,  wellnigh  unable  to 
speak  from  compassion,  "it  was  a  mistake  upon  his 
Highness's  part,  and  what  human  being " 

"  Yes,  a  mistake !  Oh,  I  understand,  I  can  compre- 
hend it ;  but  all  here  has  grown  so  quiet,  so  empty, 
Claudine."  She  laid  her  band  for  an  instant  upon  her 

26 


302  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

heart,  and  then  stroked  caressingly  her  friend's  band- 
aged arm. 

"  Elizabeth,"  said  the  girl,  "  your  nature  is  so  kind 
and  true,  your  judgment  of  others  so  kindly, — can  you 
be  severe  in  this  case  ?" 

The  Duchess  shook  her  head  :  "  No,  I  have  forgiven. 
The  little  span  of  time  that  is  still  mine  to  spend  hero 
must  be  passed  at  peace  with  every  one.  Ah,  Claudine, 
for  the  first  time  since  I  have  been  his  wife  he  talked 
with  me  early  this  morning  as  in  my  dreams  and  in  my 
waking  hours  I  have  longed  to  have  him,  kindly  and 
frankly,  gently  and  cordially.  It  comes  too  late !  Yes, 
yes ;  but  it  was  so  sweet,  so  dear !  and  so  I  have  for- 
given him.  There  is  left  in  me  only  a  very  little," — 
and  she  lowered  her  voice, — "  only  a  very  little  silly 
vanity  now.  You  see,  I  always  longed  to  please  him, 
and  forgot  what  a  poor,  ailing  creature  I  am.  So  I 
took  up  the  mirror  there  and  looked  into  it ;  it  hurt  a 
little  at  first,  but  then " 

She  paused,  and  tears  stood  in  her  eyes  as  she  forced 
a  smile. 

Tears  which  Claudine  could  not  suppress  rolled  down 
the  girl's  cheeks. 

"  I  am  so  sorry  for  him,"  the  Duchess  went  on.  "  I 
will  be  kind  and  patient  and  loving  to  him.  And  there 
is  another  whom  I  pity, — Helena;  she  loves  Baron 
Lothar." 

"  Yes,"  sighed  Claudine. 

"  Oh,  you  lovely,  God-endowed  creature,"  said  the 
sick  woman,  "  before  whom  all  hearts  bow  down ! 
How  good  it  must  be  to  be  so  loved !"  It  sounded 
very  sad,  very  hopeless. 

Claudine  rose  and  turned  away  to  the  window  ;  she 
dared  not  show  how  wretched  she  was. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  303 

"1  will  not  keep  you  any  longer,  Claudine,"  the 
Duchess  went  on.  "  You  have  so  many,  many  duties 
to  fulfil  to-day.  You  must  pay  your  betrothal-visit  to 
mamma,  and  you  must  see  the  little  one  whose  mother 
you  are  to  be,  and  you  will  have  so  much  to  discuss 
with  your  betrothed.  Go,  Claudine,  and  God  be  with 
you!"  She  smiled;  the  baby  Prince  had  pulled  the 
lace  cap  from  her  dark  hair,  and  was  putting  his  open 
mouth  to  her  pale  lips.  She  hastily  turned  her  face 
away.  "  My  darling,"  Claudine  heard  her  whisper, 
"mamma  must  not  kiss  you;  mamma  is  ill." 

The  agitated  girl  could  scarcely  summon  sufficient 
composure  to  kiss  the  transparent  hand  held  out  to  her, 
and  to  leave  the  room  calmly.  In  her  own  apartment 
she  threw  herself  into  an  arm-chair,  hid  her  face  in  her 
hands,  and  wept  bitterly.  The  waiting-maid  looked  on 
in  amazement.  Was  this  the  happiness  that  should 
attend  a  betrothal?  The  maid  stooped  and  picked  up 
a  case  that  had  just  fallen  from  the  lady's  lap  and  had 
spi'ung  open  in  the  fall,  disclosing  to  the  servant's  as 
tonisbed  eyes  a  wonderful  diamond  necklace.  Claudine 
took  no  notice  of  it ;  all  she  felt  was  that  the  pretence 
in  which  she  now  bad  a  share  was  intolerable. 

At  last  she  allowed  herself  to  be  dressed.  As  her 
yesterday's  gown  was  ruined,  she  was  compelled  to 
wear  the  only  other  dress  she  had  with  her, — one  of 
black  lace,  which  she  adorned  with  a  couple  of  roses. 
They  were  as  colourless,  however,  as  her  face,  and  their 
effect,  like  that  of  the  white  sling  in  which  her  arm 
hung,  was  not  to  brighten  her  toilette ;  the  contrast 
with  the  black  was  too  strong.  Thus,  upon  Lothar's  arm, 
she  went  to  the  Dowager  Duchess's  rooms,  where,  at  the 
breakfast  given  by  his  Highness  to  the  betrothed  couple, 
they  received  the  congratulations  of  the  little  court. 


304  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  Lothar  drove  her  to  Neuhaus. 
All  the  servants  on  the  estate  were  assembled  on  the 
hall  steps,  and  greeted  the  young  couple  with  a  sound- 
ing hurrah !  Beata  stood  on  the  threshold  with  out- 
stretched arms,  and  a  bunch  of  roses  in  her  right  hand, 
while  beside  her  old  Dora  dandled  the  child  in  its  white 
dress.  Tears  of  joy  stood  in  Beata's  honest,  laughing 
eyes. 

"Dina,  my  darling,"  she  cried,  drawing  the  girl 
towards  her,  "who  would  have  thought  it?"  And 
snatching  the  child  from  its  nurse  she  said  to  it,  "  Here 
is  a  mother  for  you,  you  poor  little  thing,  and  such  a 
mother!" 

Lothar,  with  a  glance  at  his  silent  betrothed,  put  a 
stop  to  all  noisy  demonstrations.  "  She  cannot  hold 
Leonie  yet,  Beata,"  he  said,  giving  the  child  back  to 
its  nurse,  and  leading  Claudine  into  the  nearest  room. 
"Do  not  tease  Claudine  with  questions  to-daj',  sister 
dear;  let  us  have  some  refreshments,  and  then  take  a 
drive  with  us  to  Brotterode." 

"  But,  Lothar,  there  is  an  open-air  concert  there  to- 
day, and " 

"  Just  for  that  reason,  dear  Beata !" 

His  sister  shook  her  head  and  went  to  give  her  orders. 
Then,  whilst  dressing  for  the  drive,  she  murmured  to 
herself,  contrary  to  her  wont,  "  I  thought  betrothed 
lovers  liked  to  sit  together  in  some  quiet,  secluded  spot, 
and  here  these,  who  are  by  nature  disinclined  to  noise 
and  excitement,  drive,  on  the  very  first  day  of  their 
betrothal,  directly  among  those  slanderous  tongues." 

There  was  much  connected  with  Lothar's  betrothal 
which  Beata  did  not  comprehend  to-day ;  her  brain  had 
been  confused  in  the  forenoon,  when  her  Grace  had 
taken  so  noisy  and  bustling  a  departure,  and  she  had 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  305 

not  closed  her  eyes  the  past  night.  When,  late  on  the 
previous  evening,  Lothar  had  driven  home  alone  with 
the  little  Princess,  her  heart  had  seemed  to  stand  still 
with  dread  ;  true,  she  had  only  glanced  at  her  bi other's 
face,  but  she  had  been  certain  on  the  instant  that  he 
was  betrothed,  his  look  was  so  clear  and  serene,  and 
the  Princess  ran  up-stairs  so  hurriedly. 

"  She  is  going  to  confide  her  happiness  to  her  mother," 
Beata  said  to  herself.  And,  sure  enough,  Lothar  called 
her  into  his  room,  and  when  she  entered  he  was  leaning 
against  his  gun-rack,  in  his  favourite  attitude  when  he 
had  anything  important  to  communicate  to  her.  "  Sister 
Beata,"  he  said,  coming  to  meet  her,  "  I  am  betrothed." 

She  took  his  hand  and  kissed  him  on  the  mouth.  "  I 
congratulate  you,  Lothar." 

"  And  you  are  not  at  all  glad,  Beata  ?" 

"  Lothar,"  she  had  said,  "  one  always  hopes  when 
a  brother  marries  to  gain  a  sister;  but" — and  she 
had  smiled  good-humouredly — "you  cannot  possibly 
fancy  your  Beata  a  sister  to  the  Princess  ?  We  should 
be  like  a  good,  honest  domestic  fowl  and  a  golden 
pheasant,  eh?  But  that  is  of  small  moment  if  you 
are  only  happy." 

"  I  intend  to  be  so.  And  although  a  swan  may  not 
be  any  better  companion  for  a  domestic  fowl  than  a 
golden  pheasant,  I  still  hope  the  two  will  find  pleasure 
in  each  other.  I  am  betrothed  to  Claudine,  my  sapient 
sister." 

To  Claudine !  No  need  to  mock  her  wisdom,  when 
affairs  had  been  conducted  so  quietly.  "  Thank  God  1" 
she  had  said,  when  somewhat  recovered  from  her  sur- 
prise, and  then  she  had  taken  her  brother  affectionately 
by  the  arm  :  "  Sit  down  and  tell  me  about  it." 

He  had  told  her  all  that  he  could, — of  the  operation, 
M  •  26* 


306  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

of  the  danger  to  the  Duchess's  life,  of  Claudine's  cour- 
age and  self-sacrifice,  of  everything  save  that  which 
she  longed  to  know.  His  was  a  reserved  nature;  no 
one  was  allowed  to  look  into  his  heart;  it  was  a  Gerold 
family  peculiarity. 

While  Beata  was  indulging  in  these  reminiscences, 
she  was  taking  out  her  prettiest  bonnet,  the  one  she 
had  procured  for  yesterday's  fete,  and  as  she  was  put- 
ting it  on  she  recalled  the  departure  early  this  morning 
and  the  terrible  scene  in  the  nursery.  Little  Leonie 
was  asleep  in  her  crib  after  her  bath,  when  her  Grace 
the  Princess  Thekla  bad  appeared,  ready  for  her  jour- 
ney, followed  by  Frau  von  Berg,  and  had  demanded 
nothing  more  nor  less  than — the  child !  Old  Dora  had 
planted  herself  broadly  before  the  crib  with  outspread 
arms,  and  had  declared  in  her  patois  that  the  master 
must  first  give  his  orders  that  the  child  was  to  go  with 
its  grandmother.  Her  Grace  had  so  far  forgotten  her- 
self as  to  try  with  her  own  illustrious  hands  to  push 
the  old  peasant  aside,  but  a  sturdy  woman  of  that  class 
stands  as  firm  in  her  place  as  does  a  fir  in  the  forest. 

"  May  God  forgive  me,"  the  old  creature  had  said, 
while  resisting  the  high-born  hands,  "  for  so  far  forget- 
ting the  respect  I  owe  to  one  of  our  Duke's  family! 
And  He  will  forgive  me;  I  am  doing  my  duty,  and 
cannot  let  my  master  be  robbed." 

"  You  stupid  creature,"  Frau  von  Berg  had  said,  "  who 
is  robbing?  Her  Grace  is  the  child's  grandmother." 

"  I  must  have  orders  from  my  master,"  had  been  the 
reply. 

"  Your  master  is  not  at  home ;  listen  to  reason." 

But  it  was  of  no  use  ;  Dora  had  put  her  arms  akimbo 
and  had  stuck  to  her  post;  all  at  once  she  had  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  the  bell-pull ;  many  an  impatient 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  307 

peal  it  had  rung,  but  certainly  never  so  loud  a  one  as 
to-day. 

The  nursery-bell  had  a  familiar  tone  to  the  entire 
household ;  in  that  room  its  old  master  and  mistress 
had  lain  ill  and  had  died.  No  wonder  that  every  one 
thought  some  accident  had  happened,  and  that  Lothar, 
who  had  just  returned  from  his  morning  ride  about  the 
estate,  hurried  along  the  corridor  before  all  the  rest, 
followed  by  Beata  and  a  crowd  of  servants  from  every 
part  of  the  house.  He  had  sent  away  the  servants  and 
had  closed  the  door  behind  himself  and  Beata. 

"What  is  all  this?"  had  been  his  first  inquiry.  He 
looked  as  if  he  could  scarcely  trust  his  eyes  at  sight  of 
her  Grace,  who  had  not  appeared  at  the  breakfast-table 
on  the  plea  of  a  headache,  and  who  now  stood  here, 
with  a  crimson  face,  speaking  in  an  imperious  tone  : 

"  I  wish  to  take  my  grand-daughter  with  me,  and 
this  person " 

"  Ah  !  Your  Grace  supposed  me  so  absorbed  by  my 
betrothal  that  I  should  forget  the  hour  fixed  for  your 
departure?  Or,  rather,  your  Grace  did  not  wish  to 
await  my  return,  and  preferred  to  depart  by  an  earlier 
train.  And  your  Grace  wishes  to  take  your  grand- 
child with  you" — his  voice  sounded  like  muttered 
thunder — "  without  first  obtaining  my  permission  ? 
By  what  right,  may  I  ask  ?" 

"  She  is  my  daughter's  child." 

"  And  mine.  A  father's  claim  is  rather  stronger,  it 
seems  to  me,  than  a  grandmother's,  your  Grace." 

"Only  for  a  few  months,  Gerold,"  the  Princess  re- 
joined, beginning  to  see  that  her  anger  had  betrayed 
her  into  committing  a  blunder. 

"Not  for  an  hour,"  he  said,  with  decision,  and  his 
face  grew  a  shade  paler.  "  This  child  shall  be  guarded 


308  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

from  the  poisonous  atmosphere  which  is  ruin  for  even 
the  purest  flowers ;  I  will  shield  it  from  learning  an 
early  lesson  of  contempt  for  its  kind.  My  daughter 
shall  be  trained  as  was  formerly  the  fashion  in  my 
family, — simply,  naturally,  and  in  lofty  modes  of 
thought;  and  this  must  be  done  here,  here  in  Neu- 
haus,  your  Grace,  under  the  special  superintendence  of 
myself  and  my  future  wife."  And  he  drew  close  the 
curtains  of  the  crib  where  the  little  girl  was  lying, 
with  her  startled  eyes  wide  open.  "  Allow  me  to  attend 
your  Highness  to  the  carriage,"  he  added,  coolljr. 

The  Princess  walked  to  the  crib,  touched  the  child's 
forehead  with  her  lips,  and  then,  without  another  word, 
rustled  along  the  corridor  to  the  hall,  where  the  Prin- 
cess Helena  and  the  lady-  and  gentleman  in-waiting 
were  ready  to  depart.  The  old  Princess  got  into  the 
carriage  with  the  most  amiable  of  smiles  upon  her  lips; 
Beata,  who  courtesied  low,  received  a  scarcely  percepti- 
ble nod  in  return  for  her  hospitality.  Lothar  sat  oppo- 
site the  ladies,  as  he  had  upon  their  arrival.  When  the 
horses  started,  a  pair  of  black  girlish  eyes  cast  a  long 
look  at  the  old  house,  a  look  so  filled  with  disappoint- 
ment and  remorse  that  Beata,  in  spite  of  her  relief,  felt 
her  heart  swell  with  compassion.  Poor,  wayward  little 
Princess ! 

Beata  was  conscious  of  this  as  she  stood  before 
the  mirror  tying  her  bonnet-strings.  She  sighed. 
Thank  God !  thank  God !  there  was  peace  in  the  house 
once  more!  Up-stairs,  the  bracing  woodland  breeze 
was  clearing  Frau  von  Berg's  rooms  of  the  last  traces 
of  the  penetrating  scent  of  patchouli,  and  the  house- 
maid had  long  since  brushed  up  the  remains  of  a  costly 
glass  vase  which  the  old  Princess  had  dashed  upon  the 
floor  in  her  anger.  In  the  linden  boughs  an  end  of 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  309 

pale-blue  ribbon  was  fluttering, — it  had  been  blown 
there  from  the  Princess  Helena's  dressing-table, — and 
on  the  lawn,  beds  and  furniture  were  airing.  To-mor- 
row all  would  be  as  it  had  been  before  this  visit,  thank 
God! 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  said,  in  her  clear  voice,  as  a 
few  minutes  later  she  entered  her  sitting-room,  where 
Claudine  was  seated  on  the  platform  by  the  window 
looking  out,  and  Lothar  was  standing  before  his  father's 
picture,  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  lost  in  thought, 
— "  forgive  me ;  I  am  rather  late.  Have  they  brought 
you  coffee  ?  Yes ;  that's  right.  Well,  I  am  ready  for 
our  drive." 

She  was  rather  dismayed,  as  she  spoke,  at  finding 
the  betrothed  pair  so  far  apart,  and  at  the  formal  man- 
ner in  which  Lothar  approached  Claudine  and  offered 
her  his  arm  as  if  they  had  been  at  a  court  ball : 

"A  drive  in  the  air  will  do  you  good,  Claudine." 

His  measured  tones  almost  provoked  Bcata. 

"Please,  Lothar,"  Claudine  replied,  "give  orders  to 
stop  at  the  Owl's  Nest  after  our  drive.  I  am  longing 
for  rest ;  I  am  still  very  weary." 

"  Yes,  of  course ;  and  we  must  pay  Joachim  a  be- 
trothal-visit," was  the  reply. 

It  was  a  very  silent  drive.  As  the  carriage  rolled 
down  towards  the  valley,  where  the  red  roofs  of  the 
little  spa  were  visible,  Claudine  leaned  back  with  a 
siich.  This,  too!  She  had  expected  it:  he  wished  to 
show  her,  rehabilitated,  above  all  suspicion. 

The  strains  of  a  waltz  greeted  them  as  they  turned 
into  the  avenue  before  the  small  hotel.  In  the  open 
square,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  the  pavilion  for 
the  musicians,  there  were  quantities  of  little  tables 
covered  with  red-and-white  cloths.  All  the  aristocratic 


310  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

guests  were  seated  about  a  gigantic  table,  conversing, 
guarded  by  the  Argus  eyes  of  the  head-waiter,  who 
was  bound  to  see  that  no  unworthy  addition  was  made 
to  the  party.  In  order  to  insure  this,  he  was  wont, 
three  hours  before  the  beginning  of  the  concert,  to  lay 
on  the  table  two  primitive  tickets  inscribed  'Taken,' 
and  to  tip  up  the  chairs.  And  if  two  only  of  the  circle 
made  their  appearance,  and  ordinary  mortals  could  not 
find  a  single  vacant  chair,  he  merely  declared,  with  a 
shrug,  "  Extremely  sorry,  but  these  places  are  taken." 

To-day,  however,  not  a  chair  at  the  table  was  unoc- 
cupied ;  the  conversation  was  very  lively,  and  was  all 
about  the  affair  of  yesterday  at  Altenstein.  The  story 
of  the  Dowager  Duchess's  displeasure  was  in  every 
one's  mouth, — of  course  much  distorted,  exaggerated 
beyond  recognition.  One  version  set  forth  how  the 
old  Duchess  had  ordered  Claudine  instantly  to  leave 
the  castle;  another  told  of  her  pension's  being  with- 
drawn ;  a  third  declared  that  the  fair  Gerold  had  in- 
sisted upon  appearing  at  the  dinner,  and  added,  with 
significance,  that  the  Duke  was,  after  all,  the  sovereign. 

Oh,  incredible!  How  dreadful !  And  then  the  Duch- 
ess's hemorrhage!  Poor  creature!  poor  creature  1 
The  consequence,  of  course,  of  grief  and  agitation  ! 

Of  course,  since  Claudine  had  chosen  to  conduct 
herself  so,  the  Duke  could  hardly  be  blamed.  They 
shrugged  their  shoulders  and  smiled  at  the  poor,  be- 
trayed wife,  who  had  believed  the  girl  to  be  her  friend. 

"  Oh,  terrible  1"  groaned  an  elderly  Baroness ;  "  it 
was  just  like  the  Gerold!  How  could  it  have  been 
discovered  ?" 

"I  wonder  what  Baron  Gerold  thinks  of  it  all?  He 
looked  like  a  corpse  when  the  old  Duchess  turned  the 
cold  shoulder  to  Fraulein  Claudine." 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  311 

At  these  words  there  was  a  perfect  confusion  of 
tongues,  suddenly  followed  by  silence.  Some  one  had 
remarked,  "  Why,  there  is  the  Neuhaus  carriage !" 

"  True  !     And  driving  this  way." 

All  had  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  look  as  if  they 
were  talking  of  indifferent  matters.  The  ladies  flut- 
tered their  fans,  and  every  eye  was  directed  towards 
the  approaching  vehicle.  The  spirited  horses  danced 
excitedly  at  sound  of  the  music ;  the  coachman  and 
footman  on  the  box  were  in  faultless  blue-and-yellow 
liveries,  and  behind  them  ? 

At  the  long  table  every  hat  was  instantly  lifted ;  the 
gentlemen  arose,  while  the  ladies  nodded  and  smiled 
amiably. 

What  in  the  name  of  heaven  ? Claudine  von 

Gerold,  her  arm  in  a  sling,  sitting  beside  Fraulein 
Beata?  And  the  Baron  opposite  her?  Slowly,  very 
slowly,  the  carriage  passed  the  distinguished  party  at 
the  table  and  stopped  before  the  door  of  the  hotel. 

Two  gentlemen  from  the  table  hurried  towards  it,— 
a  young  officer  of  hussars  and  the  melancholy  attache. 
The  lieutenant  wished  to  inquire  after  the  health  of 
the  Duchess,  his  illustrious  neighbour  at  table  at  the 
Neuhaus/efe,  since  he  was  'sure  Fraulein  von  Gerold 
would  be  able  to  give  him  the  latest  news,'  etc.  The 
attache  had  other  views.  He  came  by  her  Excellency's 
whispered  request,  "  Do  find  out  what  it  all  means." 

"  The  Duchess  is  better,"  Claudine  replied  to  the 
young  officer's  inquiries. 

"  But  have  you  had  an  accident,  Fraulein  von  Ge- 
rold ?"  asked  the  attache,  t\v  irling  his  moustache ; "  surely 
you " 

"Only  a  trifling  injury,  Herr  von  Sanders,"  Lothar 
interposed.  "  In  a  day  or  two,  I  trust,  my  betrothed's 


312  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

arm Ob,  pardon  me !  I  forgot  to  say  that  you 

are  in  presence  of  a  betrothed  couple, — betrothed  since 
last  evening.  A  surprise,  is  it  not,  gentlemen  ? — But, 
Cluudine,  here  comes  your  glass  of  water  j  I  hope  it  is 
cool  enough." 

The  gentlemen  shook  hands  with  the  Baron,  and 
congratulations  and  thanks  were  exchanged.  Mean- 
while, Claudine  drank  the  water  and  handed  back  the 
glass. 

"  Drive  on,"  said  Lothar,  lifting  his  hat  with  a  pro- 
found and  grave  inclination  to  those  assembled  around 
the  large  table.  The  next  moment  the  swift  wheels  of 
the  carriage  had  carried  it  on  into  the  lonely  forest  road, 
while  the  final  chords  of  the  waltz  were  still  trembling 
upon  the  sunny,  fragrant  air. 

At  the  table  before  the  hotel  the  clatter  of  tongues 
suddenly  died  away  like  the  notes  of  the  loud  trumpets 
with  which  the  waltz  had  ended.  When  conversation 
was  resumed,  how  different  had  the  tone  become  1 

"  Well,"  the  old  Excellency  declared,  with  dignity, 
"  I  always  maintained  there  was  nothing  in  all  that 
gossip." 

"  Good  heavens,  there  is  so  much  mere  talk  in  the 

world  !"  sighed  the  sentimental  Baroness.  "  Who  be- 
gan it  ?" 

"  Antonie  von  Bohlen  wrote  to  me  about  it  to-day," 
said  one  of  the  pretty  Countesses  Pansewitz,  "  but  she 
told  me  not  to  tell." 

"Never  mind,  tell  us  what  she  said,"  her  mother 
commanded,  vexed  at  such  unnecessary  reticence. 

"  Claudine  G-erold  had  an  artery  opened  because  the 
Duchess  was  bleeding  to  death,  and  her  blood  was 
transferred  to  the  Duchess's  veins,"  the  Countess  ex- 
plained. "  Antonie  says  the  Duchess  would  else  have 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  313 

died.  Oh,  heavens  I  it  is  terrible !  I  never  could  have 
done  it." 

"  Terrible  !  terrible !"  exclaimed  the  ladies. 

"  How  courageous  1  There's  race  for  you !"  cried  the 
young  officer,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"Deuce  take  it,  that's  a  girl  to  love  !"  his  Excellency 
declared,  for  which  speech  he  received  a  glance  of  stern 
disapproval  from  his  august  spouse. 

"  She  looked  exquisitely  beautiful,"  said  the  melan- 
choly attache,  more  tragically  than  ever.  "  By  Jove  1 
why  hasn't  a  fellow  a  couple  of  estates  ?  That  lucky 
Gerold !" 

"  He  has  sent  in  his  resignation,"  said  the  young 
hussar,  "  and  is  going  to  devote  himself  to  the  manage- 
ment of  his  estates." 

"  What  else  do  you  know,  Lolo  ?"  the  Countess  asked 
her  daughter. 

"  Oh,  she  had  presents  of  quantities  of  diamonds," 
the  girl  further  declared,  "  and  the  old  Duchess  treated 
her  as  if  she  were  her  daughter,  and  kissed  and  petted 
her." 

"  Ah,  charming!" 

"  When  are  they  to  be  married  ?" 

"  Of  course  they'll  pass  the  winters  in  the  capital." 

And  so  on.  In  their  inmost  hearts  they  grudged 
Claudine  her  good  fortune,  but  no  one  dared  to  breathe 
a  word  against  Baron  Gerold's  betrothed.  There  were 
quite  other  murmurs  borne  upon  the  fresh  woodland 
breeze,  and  the  ladies  unanimously  agreed  to  present 
the  betrothed  maiden  with  a  gorgeous  basket  of  flowers 
in  token  of  their  gratitude  for  her  succour  of  their  be- 
loved Duchess. 

Meanwhile,  the  betrothed  couple  had  reached  the 
Owl's  Nest.  The  house  and  garden  looked  peaceful 
o  27 


314  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

indeed  in  the  late  afternoon  sunshine,  and  in  its  light 
the  hroken  rosette  in  the  convent  ruin  was  tinted  with 
rose-colour.  Claudine's  lovely  face  suddenly  wore  a 
look  of  distress ;  the  arch  of  the  old  door- way  of  the 
house  was  hung  with  garlands  of  evergreens  and  roses. 

"Lothar,"  she  whispered,  touching  him  lightly  on 
the  arm  as  she  alighted,  "  I  beg,  nay,  I  require  of  you, 
— go  home  with  Beata.  I  must  first  prepare  Joachim. 
You  shall  hear  from  me  when  to  come  again.  I  cannot 
play  a  part  here:  it  is  beyond  my  strength." 

He  evidently  underwent  a  brief  inward  conflict,  but 
a  glance  into  the  despairing  blue  eyes  conquered  him; 
she  was  indeed  suffering.  He  said  not  a  word  in  reply, 
but  turned  and  begged  Beata  to  remain  in  the  carriage. 
He  escorted  Claudine  to  the  door  of  the  house,  and 
there  kissed  her  reluctantly-yielded  hand  as  little  Eliz 
abeth  ran  to  meet  her  with  a  shout  of  joy. 

"  When  do  you  want  the  carriage  for  Altenstein  this 
evening  ?"  he  asked.  "  You  will  surely  permit  me  to 
accompany  you  thither  ?" 

Claudine  turned  on  the  threshold  of  the  door  and 
waved  a  farewell  to  Beata;  in  her  agitation  she  had 
forgotten  the  kindly  soul.  But  Beata  did  not  see  it ; 
she  was  looking  up  at  the  window  of  the  bell-room. 

"  Thank  you,  Lothar," — Claudine's  voice  was  low,  but 
decided, — "  I  shall  not  return  to  Altenstein.  I  shall 
stay  here.  I  will  inform  the  Duchess  of  my  intention. 
You  do  not  believe  it  ?"  she  went  on,  with  a  weary 
smile.  "  I  assure  you  I  really  have  not  strength  suf- 
ficient at  present  for  the  part  I  am  to  play.  I  tried 
bravely  to  do  my  duty  to-day,  did  I  not?  Take  pity 
upon  me." 

She  inclined  her  head  gravely  and  went  into  the 
house. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  315 

Fraulein  Linden meyer  came  to  meet  her,  almost 
falling  upon  the  threshold  of  the  door  in  the  hurry  of 
her  joy.  She  had  on  the  cap  with  red  ribbons,  and 
opened  wide  her  arms. 

"  Ah,  dear  Fraulein  Claudine,  what  a  pleasure !"  she 
said.  "  Oh,  we  know  it,  we  know  it !  Who  do  you 
think  told  us?  Old  Heinemann's  grand-daughter.  But 
why  did  the  Herr  Baron  not  come  with  you?" 

Claudine  had  to  be  embraced  and  kissed,  to  shake 
hands  with  old  Heinemann,  and  to  receive  Ida's  good 
wishes.  At  last  she  could  go  up-stairs.  How  hard  it 
all  was! 

Joachim  was  sitting  at  his  writing  when  she  en- 
tered his  room,  and  it  took  a  moment  or  two  to  recall 
him  to  reality.  Then  he  sprang  up,  went  to  her,  and 
lifted  her  chin  with  a  caressing  hand.  "My  brave 
little  sister — and  betrothed  ?  Look  at  me,  my  darling," 
he  begged. 

But  she  did  not  raise  her  eyes,  and  large  drops  were 
clinging  to  their  long  lashes.  "  Ah,  Joachim !  Joachim !" 
she  sobbed,  gently. 

He  stroked  her  silken  hair.  "Do  not  cry,"  he  said, 
gravely,  "  but  tell  me  what  they  have  been  doing  to 
you  over  there." 

And  then  the  tempest  of  anguish  and  despair  burst 
forth  and  would  not  be  controlled.  She  did  not  spare 
herself,  she  disguised  nothing  of  the  humiliation  that 
had  fallen  to  her  share,  and  against  which  her  pride 
had  rebelled  so  vainly.  "  And,  Joachim,"  she  declared, 
wildly,  "  the  worst  of  it  all  is  that  I  love  him,  and  have 
loved  him  for  years  as  only  a  girl  can  love.  On  the 
day  that  he  stood  beside  the  Princess  Katharina  at  the 
altar  I  thought  I  could  not  live ;  and  now  fate  throws 
my  coveted  bliss  in  my  lap  with  a  laugh  of  scorn  and 


316  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

says,  '  There ;  but  take  care :  it  is  only  gilded, — it  is 
not  real  gold.  There  you  have  what  you  have  prayed 
for  and  wept  for  all  these  years !'  Trust  me,  he  has 
taken  me,  as  he  did  the  silver  at  the  auction,  at  any 
price,  because  he  would  rather  die  than  have  the  slight- 
est stain  upon  the  Gerold  name ;  he  has  asked  me  to 
marry  him  for  the  sake  of  the  family  honour;  for 
nothing  else,  nothing!" 

She  ceased,  exhausted,  but  she  continued  to  sob  pas- 
sionately. 

Joachim  made  no  reply;  his  hand  still  lay  on  her 
fair  hair.  At  last  he  said,  gently,  "  And  if,  neverthe- 
less, he  does  love  you  ?" 

She  rose  on  the  instant  and  stood  erect. 

"  Ah,  God  1"  she  said,  and  in  her  tear-stained  face 
there  was  something  like  compassion  for  her  brother's 
credulity.  "No,  you  good,  unsuspicious  creature,  he 
does  not  love  me!" 

"  But  if  he  should  !  He  never  was  one  to  feign  a  feel- 
ing. You  know  he  would  rather  bite  out  his  tongue 
than  tell  an  untruth.  It  was  always  so,  Claudine." 

"  Yes,  thank  heaven,"  she  cried,  "  he  never  dared  do 
that.  Do  you  suppose  Lothar  could  make  feigned  love 
to  me  ?  Oh,  no,  he  is  not  false.  When  I  proposed  to 
him  that  we  should  act  this  farce,  it  never  even  oc- 
curred to  him  to  say  that  he  should  be  distressed  here- 
after when  we  parted.  No,  he  is  honest, — honest  to 
rudeness!"  Suddenly  she  seemed  to  collect  herself. 
"  My  poor  Joachim  I"  she  said,  tenderly,  taking  her 
brother's  hand,  "  I  interrupt  your  work  with  my  evil, 
evil  tidings.  Bear  with  me,  dear ;  I  shall  grow  calmer. 
I  shall  once  more  be  your  housekeeper,  your  good 
comrade.  Oh,  if  I  had  only  never  left  you !  And 
gradually  I  shall  overcome  it  all, — all,  Joachim." 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  317 

She  kissed  him  on  the  forehead,  and  went  into  her 
room,  bolting  the  door  behind  her. 

The  repose  of  this  her  own  little  home  had  the 
effect  upon  her  soul  of  cool,  fresh  spring- water.  She 
went  from  one  article  of  furniture  to  another,  as  if  to 
greet  each  one  individually,  and  finally  paused  before 
the  picture  of  her  grandmother. 

"  You  were  so  wise  an  old  woman,"  she  whispered, 
"  and  yet  what  a  foolish  grand-daughter  did  you  train ! 
Too  late  she  purchases  her  wisdom  with  the  happiness 
of  her  life." 

Then  she  laid  aside  her  lace  dress,  put  on  her  simple 
gray  gown,  seated  herself  in  the  old  arm-chair  at  the 
window,  and  gazed  out  into  the  darkening  evening. 

In  the  room  below,  little  Elizabeth  walked  sadly 
around  the  spread  table  j  it  looked  so  pretty  with 
the  porcelain  bowl  filled  with  roses  in  the  centre,  the 
napkins  which  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  had  taken  such 
pains  to  fold  artistically,  and  the  rose-wreathed  chairs 
for  the  betrothed  couple.  And  then  the  beautiful  cake 
which  Ida  herself  had  baked.  The  child's  fat  wax 
doll  too  had  on  a  new  blue  gown.  "Where  were  they 
all  this  while? 

She  ran  into  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer's  room.  "  When 
is  the  wedding  going  to  be  ?"  she  asked,  impatiently. 
She  had  supposed  all  this  preparation  heralded  the 
wedding. 

"Ah,  my  darling!"  the  old  Fraulein  sighed,  looking 
at  Ida,  and  shaking  her  head.  "  '  Who  knows,'  "  she 
added,  with  Schiller,  " '  what  slumbers  in  Time's  back- 
ground ?'  "  This  was  a  very  different  quotation  from 
the  one  the  worthy  soul  had  prepared  for  the  betrothed 
couple : 

27* 


318  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  For  when  the  Strong  and  Mild  are  pairing, 
The  Manly  with  the  Tender  sharing, 
The  cord  will  then  be  good  and  strong." 

"What  kind  of  lovers  were  these?  They  did  not 
even  stay  together  on  the  very  first  day  of  their  be- 
trothal. Or  was  this  the  new  fashion  ?  In  her  day 
it  had  been  different ;  then  lovers  sat  together  and 
looked  into  each  other's  eyes.  She  sighed. 

"  Clear  away,  Ida,"  she  whispered ;  "  the  wasps  are 
coming  into  the  room  after  the  cake,  and  it  will  get 
dry  on  the  table.  Ah,  our  lovely  wreaths  !  It  is  the 
lot  of  all  that  is  beautiful  in  this  world !  Ida,  Ida,  I 
feel  far  from  pleased." 

"  Elizabeth  would  like  some  cake,"  said  the  child, 
tripping  after  the  girl. 

Heinemann  was  sitting  on  the  bench  before  the 
house  door,  whistling  a  melancholy  air ;  Ida  was  sing- 
ing the  words  of  it  as  she  cleared  away  the  table ; 
they  floated  out  sadly  into  the  garden  through  the 
open  window : 

"  Two  turtle-doves  were  sitting 
Upon  the  self-same  spray : 
When  two  fond  lovers  sever, 
The  flowers  fade  away." 

They  had  no  idea  of  how  deeply  this  grieved  Frau 
lein  Lindenmeyer.     The  old  lady  put  her  head  out  of 
the  window.     "  Be  quiet,"  she  said,  in  an  undertone. 
•'  Heaven  knows,  that  is  no  song  to  sing  just  after  a 
betrothal ;  it  sounds  like  frogs  croaking." 

Claudine,  too,  had  heard  the  song.  " '  "When  they 
sever,'  "  she  said  to  herself.  "  At  least  they  have  been 
united.  But  we ?" 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  319 

The  first  snow  in  the  mountains!  It  falls  there 
early ;  on  the  plains  the  gossamers  may  still  be  float- 
ing, but  up  here  it  shimmers  and  gleams,  and  there  is  a 
white,  glittering  veil  lying  upon  the  pines.  Then  it  is 
comfortable  in  human  habitations;  the  huge  tiled  stoves 
do  their  duty  ;  and  the  chinks  of  the  window-frames 
are  so  stuffed  with  green  moss  that  the  cold  wind  can 
find  no  smallest  entrance.  It  is  delightful  then,  es- 
pecially of  an  evening,  when  the  light  of  the  swinging 
lamp  above  the  table  falls  upon  the  shining  tea-service. 

Nowhere  among  the  mountains  was  it  so  comfortable, 
so  cosy,  so  home-like,  as  in  the  dwelling-room  at  Neu- 
haus.  It  was  a  pity  that  the  spinning-wheel,  with  its 
fleece  of  white  wool,  no  longer  occupied  its  old  place 
on  the  platform  by  the  window  ;  it  would  have  suited 
so  well  with  the  rest  of  the  room.  Outside  there  was 
a  flurry  of  snow,  within  here  the  lamp  was  lit  upon  the 
old-fashioned  writing-table. 

Beata  sat  writing:  "So  much,  Lothar,  for  the  an- 
swers to  your  questions  about  the  farm  ;  now  for  other 
matters  nearer  your  heart.  I  was  at  the  Owl's  Nest 
a  while  ago,  and  found  Claudine  in  the  sitting-room ; 
she  was  giving  little  Elizabeth  her  lessons.  I  should 
like  to  send  you  some  specially  cheering  news,  but  it  is 
always  the  same.  She  never  speaks  of  you,  and  if  I 
begin  upon  the  subject  she  gives  me  no  reply,  or  none 
that  is  at  all  satisfactory.  She  seems  interested  only 
in  one  thing,  and  that  is  the  Duchess's  health.  She 
lives  like  a  nun,  and  looks  wretchedly  pale ;  her  only 
diversion  consists  in  long,  solitary  walks.  Joachim, 
egotist  that  he  is.  either  does  not  see  it  or  does  not 

O  * 

choose  to  see  it.  I  opened  his  eyes  to-day,  however. 
He  brought  to  Claudine  a  thick  pile  of  manuscript 
to  be  copied  ;  I  snatched  it  from  him,  and  said  to  him, 


320  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

1  If  you  please,  I  will  attend  to  this ;  you  overwork  the 
poor  girl.'  You  know  she  has  sent  away  Ida,  and  does 
everything  herself, — cooks,  sews,  irons, — and  all  is  well 
done.  And  in  addition  to  the  household  work  she  is 
required  to  perform  the  duties  of  a  copying-clerk  and 
ruin  her  eyes.  As  if  she  had  not  spoiled  them  suffi- 
ciently with  crying ! 

"  Heaven  knows,  one  scarcely  sees  her  but  that  her 
eyelids  are  swollen,  although  whenever  I  ask  her, 
'Have  you  been  crying?'  she  always  replies,  'I?  what 
have  I  to  cry  for  ?' 

"Joachim  looked  at  me  in  surprise.  I  am  convinced 
he  was  shocked  at  the  idea  of  my  thus  prying  into  the 
mysteries  of  a  poet's  soul.  He  tried  to  gainsay  me, 
but  it  was  of  no  use.  He  is  one  of  those  who  must  be 
dealt  with  resolutely ;  it  is  the  only  way  to  manage  him. 

"  But  forgive  me  for  writing  of  Joachim  when  you 
long  to  hear  of  Claudine.  You  ask  me  if  she  wears 
her  betrothal-ring.  I  know  it  will  grieve  you,  but  I 
must  tell  you  the  truth,  Lothar.  There  is  no  ring 
on  her  finger.  I  asked  her  about  it  yesterday;  she 
looked  embarrassed,  and  made  no  reply.  There  is  a 
stern  line  about  her  mouth  which  it  pains  me  to  see. 
You  should  have  wooed  her  differently ;  but  then,  as 
matters  stood 

"  Sometimes  I  think  that  perhaps  the  Duke No, 

no,  Lothar ;  I  will  not  distress  you ;  I  am  so  ignorant 
of  such  matters;  I  do  not  even  know  what  has  passed 
between  you,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  pry  into  your  secret. 
God  grant  that  these  clouds  may  roll  off!  One  thing 
I  am  sure  of;  if  they  are  not  soon  dissipated  you  will 
both  be  wretchedly  unhappy.  Sometimes  I  am  on  the 
point  of  interfering,  and  of  asking,  '  What  miserable 
squabble  is  this?  One  here,  the  other  there.  Do  you 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  321 

love  each  other,  or  do  you  not  ?'  But  you  have  for- 
bidden me,  and  I  refrain. 

"I  always  take  Leonie  with  me  to  the  Owl's  Nest, 
but  she  behaves  as  if  she  did  not  see  the  child,  and  it 
looks  so  fresh  and  hearty  now.  Joachim  says  it  looks 
like  a  Spanish  baby,  with  its  dark  curls  and  black 
eyes.  Once  when  she  thought  I  was  out  of  the  room 
I  saw  her  pet  and  kiss  the  child,  but  as  soon  as  she  was 
aware  of  my  presence  she  was  the  same  as  ever. 

"  Frau  von  Katzenstein  wrote  lately  to  Claudine  that 
the  Princess  Helena  was  with  the  Duchess  at  Cannes, 
and  was  tending  the  invalid  with  the  most  unselfish 
devotion ;  the  Duchess,  too,  praises  her  in  her  letters 
to  Claudine.  Her  Highness  writes  almost  every  day, 
and  Claudine  answers  regularly,  but  the  correspond- 
ence seems  to  give  her  no  pleasure.  She  even  looks 
impatient,  at  times,  when  the  post  brings  her  a  scented 
envelope  bearing  the  ducal  scutcheon.  The  illustrious 
lady  asks  in  every  letter, '  When  are  you  to  be  married, 
Claudine  ?  Why  do  you  say  nothing  in  your  letters  of 
your  betrothed  and  your  happiness?'  And  sometimes 
an  orange-blossom  is  enclosed  in  the  note.  What  Clau- 
dine says  in  reply  I  do  not  know,  but  I  infer  from  the 
constant  repetition  of  the  question  that  she  does  not 
answer  it  at  all. 

"Good  heavens,  this  is  a  long  letter!  And  I  shall 
write  still  more  this  evening,  for  I  mean  to  begin  copy- 
ing Joachim's  manuscript.  I  have  looked  over  it ;  it  is 
the  second  part  of  the  Spanish  '  Experiences  of  Travel.' 

"  What  else  would  you  like  to  know,  Lothar  ?  Only 
ask,  and  I  will  answer  you  frankly.  Do  not  let  time 
hang  too  heavy  on  your  hands  in  your  lonely  castle  in 
Saxony.  God  grant  there  may  be  some  improvement 
in  the  Duchess's  condition!  They  say  the  poor  creat- 


322  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

ure  is  restless,  and  filled  with  longing  for  her  German 
home  and  her  children.  Yesterday  she  sent  some  roses 
to  Claudine.  One  of  the  poor  exiled  buds  is  in  a  glass 
of  water  on  my  table  as  I  write,  and  it  seems  to  gaze 
in  surprise  at  the  snow  drifting  against  the  window- 
panes.  It  is  dancing  down  outside  unceasingly  in  the 
darkening  night.  What  a  noiseless  hurly-burly  it 
makes !  I  send  you  one  of  our  baby's  curls. 

"Princess  Thekla  has  really  taken  Frau  von  Berg 
into  her  household;  did  you  know  that?  And  did 
you  know  that  the  Duke  did  not  take  Herr  von  Palmer 
with  him  to  Cannes?  It  is  strange.  He  used  not  to 
be  able  to  do  without  him." 

She  addressed  the  letter,  and  was  about  to  go  to  the 
nursery — it  was  just  the  time  when  little  Leonie  had 
her  supper  of  porridge,  which  Beata,  like  a  faithful 
foster-mother,  never  omitted  to  taste — when  Heine- 
mann  was  announced. 

"  Well,"  she  asked,  when  the  old  man  entered  in  his 
pilot-cloth  coat  and  high  boots,  his  fur  cap  in  his  hand, 
"  what  is  the  matter  at  the  Owl's  Nest?" 

"Thank  God,  nothing!  But  we  have  had  a  tele- 
gram. Fraulein  Claudine  must  leave  by  the  night- 
train,  and  she  sent  me  to  ask  Fraulein  von  Gerold  for 
a  sleigh  to  drive  to  the  station." 

Beata  instantly  gave  orders  for  the  sleigh  to  be  got 
ready,  and  then  with  her  own  hands  poured  out  a  glass 
of  cordial  for  the  old  man.  "  I  will  drive  over,"  she 
said,  "  and  you  can  get  up  behind." 

"  Yes;  Fraulein  Claudine  bade  me  beg  you  to  do  so, 
and  I  forgot,"  he  murmured. 

In  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Beata  was  driving 
through  the  snow-clad  forest.  What  in  the  world  had 
happened  ? 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  323 

The  Owl's  Nest  rose  gray  amid  the  white  firs,  and 
the  lighted  windows  cast  crimson  gleams  abroad  into 
the  night.  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  received  her  in  the 
hall ;  she  looked  distressingly  solemn,  and  her  eyes 
were  swimming  in  teat's.  She  clasped  her  hands  and 
whispered  to  Beata,  "  The  Duchess  is  dying." 

Beata  flew  up-stairs  and  into  Claudine's  room,  where 
she  found  the  girl  hurriedly  packing  a  small  trunk. 
.  "  Good  heavens,"  exclaimed  Beata,  "  are  you  going 
to  Cannes?" 

"  Oh,  no :  only  to  the  capital ;  the  Duchess  wishes  to 
die  at  home."  She  clasped  her  hands  before  her  face 
and  burst  into  tears. 

"  They  are  bringing  her  back,  then  ?  Ah,  merciful 
heavens  !  My  dear  Claudine,  do  not  cry ;  dearest  child, 
you  must  have  known  that  it  was  only  a  respite,  that 
appai'ent  improvement." 

"  There  lies  the  despatch  from  Frau  von  Katzenstein, 
Beata ;  the  Duchess  expects  to  find  me  in  the  capital 
when  she  arrives  to-morrow  evening;  the  despatch  is 
from  Marseilles.  I  wanted  to  beg  you  to  look  after 
little  Elizabeth  now  and  then,  Beata;  Joachim  is  so 
absorbed  in  his  work,  and  Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  grows 
forgetful.  I  thought  of  writing  for  Ida,  but  Frau- 
lein Lindenmeyer  tells  me  she  has  gone  to  a  situa- 
tion." 

"  Let  your  mind  be  perfectly  easy,"  said  Beata,  with 
some  impatience,  as  she  helped  her  cousin  to  put  on 
her  wrap.  "  Make  yourself  warm  enough,  and " 

"  But  leave  the  child  here  in  the  Owl's  Nest,"  Clau- 
dine interrupted  her.  "Joachim  is  so  used  to  have 
Elizabeth  go  up  to  him  in  the  gloaming  and  sit  on  his 
knee  while  he  tells  her  stories." 

"  Of  course,"  Beata  replied.     "  But  what  I  wanted 


324  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

to  say,  Claudine,  was "     She  hesitated,  then  added 

in  a  low  tone,  "  Do  not  forget  the  betrothal-ring." 

Claudine  turned,  startled.  "  Oh,  yes ;  you  are  right," 
she  said,  sadly,  looking  for  the  ring  in  a  little  casket. 

Fraulein  Lindenmeyer  stood  weeping  beside  Beata 
in  the  hall,  while  Claudine  took  leave  of  Joachim. 

"  Ah,  heaven,  so  young  to  die !"  sobbed  the  old  Friiu- 
lein,  who  in  her  grief  could  recall  no  suitable  quotation. 
"  Away  from  her  husband  and  children,  far  out  in  the 
world.  God  grant  she  may  reach  her  home  alive !" 

"  God  grant  it !"  Claudine  repeated,  half  uncon- 
sciously, as  she  drove  off  beside  Beata  into  the  snowy 
night. 

Beata  insisted  upon  seeing  her  cousin  safe  in  the 
railway-carriage ;  she  took  almost  maternal  care  of 
her  brother's  betrothed.  And  when  the  lighted  train 
had  vanished  into  the  night,  she  drove  home  absorbed 
in  very  grave  reflections.  The  sleigh-bells  sounded 
strangely  solemn  in  the  forest:  all  else  there  was  so 
noiseless;  she  thought  of  the  express-train  speeding 
through  the  land  bringing  home  the  invalid  Duchess. 
She  must  be  very,  very  ill  to  undertake  the  journey; 
it  could  only  be  because  she  wished  to  die  at  home. 
And  she  thought  of  Claudine's  tears.  What  a  meet- 
ing awaited  the  two  friends!  When  the  Duchess  left 
Altenstein  to  go  to  Cannes  she  had  fainted.  And  now 
the  last  parting  was  at  hand. 

Claudine,  too,  was  thinking  of  her  illustrious  friend 
as  she  rode  on  alone.  Travel  with  such  a  goal  is  ter- 
rible. So  soon !  echoed  in  her  heart.  Yes,  they  had 
all  known  that  only  a  short  respite  could  be  granted 
the  sick  life,  but  the  end  was  coming  too  quickly !  The 
future  was  dark  indeed  before  the  girl,  darker  than 
the  night  outside. 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  325 

She  had  but  a  short  distance  to  go  before  there  must 
be  a  delay  of  two  hours  at  Wehrburg:  the  winter 
trains  were  very  inconvenient.  There  were  the  lights 
of  Wehrburg  already;  the  train  went  more  slowly, 
and  stopped  at  last.  She  alighted  and  went  through 
the  draughty  station  to  the  waiting-room,  where,  with- 
out raising  her  veil,  she  quietly  took  her  seat  in  a 
corner. 

Not  far  from  her  sat  whispering  together  a  gentle- 
man and  a  lady,  the  latter,  like  herself,  irrecognizablo 
in  a  thick  veil,  although  the  movement  of  the  head 
seemed  familiar  to  Claudine.  Of  the  gentleman  she 
could  at  first  see  nothing  save  the  short,  strongly-griz- 
zled hair.  He  wore  a  costly  fur  coat;  his  hat  lay  on 
a  seat  beside  him.  He  was  bending  over  a  railway- 
guide,  and  when  he  turned  a  leaf  a  large  diamond 
glittered  on  his  finger.  Nothing  is  drearier  than  wait- 
ing for  a  train  at  night  in  a  poorly-heated,  dimly- 
lighted  waiting-room.  Involuntarily  one  scans  any 
fellow-sufferers,  and  wonders  who  they  are,  whither 
they  are  going,  and  what  are  the  relations  between 
them.  Are  they  husband  and  wife?  or  father  and 
daughter  ? 

Claudine,  in  the  midst  of  her  melancholy  reflections, 
looked  now  and  then  at  the  pair  who,  with  the  sleepy 
railway-porter,  shared  with  her  the  discomfort  of  the 
waiting-room.  The  lady  was  talking  eagerly,  in  a  low 
voice,  her  head  quite  close  to  her  companion's.  The 
gentleman  showed  a  degree  of  restlessness  that  was 
almost  impatience. 

"  Nonsense !"  Claudine  heard  him  say  in  French.  "  I 
have  told  you  a  thousand  times  that  I  am  going  to 
Frankfort  and  am  then  coming  back." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you,"  the  lady  said,  in  an  angry 


326  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

whisper.  "  But  I  shall  do  as  I  told  you ;  deceive  me, 
and  you  know  the  revenge  I  shall  take." 

"  That  will  do  you  no  good,  my  dear." 

"  This  will  never  do,"  she  declared, — more  loudly, 
perhaps,  than  she  meant, — and  her  small  clinched  fist 
struck  the  table.  The  gentleman  soothingly  laid  his 
hand  upon  it  and  looked  round  in  alarm. 

Claudine's  veil  was  too  thick ;  it  entirely  concealed 
her  face  and  her  astonished  eyes.  That  was — good 
heavens  I  that  was  Herr  von  Palmer,  and — of  course 
only  Frau  von  Berg  could  hiss  so  when  she  was  angry. 
The  abundant  hair  was  hers,  and  the  full  figure.  What 
in  the  world ? 

"Please  tell  me,"  the  gentleman  said,  tenderly, 
"  what  should  I  do  over  there  without  you,  m'amie  f 
Be  reasonable,  and  do  as  I  ask  you." 

Just  then  a  train  whizzed  up  to  the  station ;  the 
windows  shook  slightly.  The  bell  rang,  and  a  porter 
opened  the  door  with,  "  Passengers  for  Frankfort-on- 
the-Main !" 

Herr  von  Palmer  arose  hurriedly.  "  Stay  here  1"  he 
said,  angrily. 

"  I  shall  not  deprive  myself  of  the  pleasure  of  ac- 
companying you  to  your  railway-carriage,"  she  said, 
sarcastically ;  "who  knows  when  I  may  enjoy  your 
society  again  ?" 

He  made  no  reply,  but  hurried  out,  followed  by  the 
lady. 

Involuntarily  Claudine  rose  and  went  to  the  win- 
dow, just  in  time  to  see  Herr  von  Palmer  disappear 
in  a  first-class  carriage.  The  lady  stood  beside  it, 
wrapped  in  her  furs.  The  train  moved  off,  and  she 
then  icturned  to  the  waiting-room.  For  an  instant 
she  scanned  Claudine's  veiled  figure,  then  threw  back 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  327 

her  own  veil  arid  ordered  a  cup  of  tea  and  the  news- 
papers. 

Yes,  the  thick  veil  had  concealed  the  painted  face  of 
Claudine's  enemy. 

Herr  von  Palmer  was  probably  going  to  meet  their 
Highnesses,  but  what  could  cause  Frau  von  Berg  such 
anxiety  ?  Perhaps  Beata  was  right ;  they  stood  in 
close  relations  to  each  other,  and  this  passionate  woman 
was  jealous. 

At  last  came  Claudine's  train.  She  waited  to  see 
which  carriage  Frau  von  Berg  would  take ;  there 
were  only  two  first-class  carriages  in  the  train.  She 
walked  towards  the  one  not  selected  by  the  lady ;  a 
porter  opened  the  door  for  her.  She  hesitated  for  an 
instant;  a  gentleman  was  its  sole  occupant. 

"  Is  there  a  second-class  carriage  empty  in  which 
smoking  is  not  allowed  ?"  she  asked. 

"  No,  madame ;  there  are  five  gentlemen  and  a  lady 
in  it,  and  in  the  ladies'  carriage  an  entire  family  of 
children." 

She  hesitated  no  longer,  but  entered  by  the  door 
which  the  porter  still  held  open  and  took  her  place  at 
the  window.  The  gentleman  was  sleeping  in  a  corner; 
there  was  nothing  of  him  to  be  seen  but  fur  and  a 
purple  railway-rug.  Well,  the  ride  would  not  last  long, 
— two  hours  at  the  most.  She  leaned  her  fair  head  in 
its  dark  fur  cap  back  against  the  cushions;  she  was 
very  weary,  but  her  sad  and  restless  thoughts  did  not 
allow  her  to  sleep.  The  Duchess  was  going  to  die ;  she 
should  lose  a  faithful  friend,  and  gain — her  freedom  ;  as 
soon  as  the  last  funeral  torch  was  extinguished  she 
would  return  his  ring  to  Lothar,  and  could  then  breathe 
freely.  Her  chest  heaved ;  the  mere  thought  of  this 
free  breath  pained  her.  Ah,  the  life  that  was  to  follow  I 


328  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

So  colourless,  so  monotonous,  the  life  of  an  impoverished 
woman  of  rank,  doomed  to  become  in  time  a  monosyl- 
labic old  maid.  The  life  of  one  forgotten !  And  sup- 
pose Joachim  should  marry  again?  What  if,  in  addi- 
tion to  all  lack  of  joy  in  her  life,  she  should  be  forced 
to  consider  herself  a  burden  ?  And  if  Beata  should 
leave  the  quiet  Paulinenthal  at  a  husband's  side  ?  Ah, 
no!  Joachim  would  always  remain  to  her;  he  must. 
Where  could  he,  in  his  seclusion,  in  the  midst  of  his 
laborious  existence,  find  time  to  play  the  wooer?  Joa- 
chim and  his  child  would  always  be  hers.  It  was  a 
sinful  lack  of  courage  to  doubt  it.  She  had  more,  much 
more,  than  many  others! 

She  sat  erect  and  looked  at  the  tracery  the  frost  had 
left  on  the  window-pane.  Then  she  started  in  mortal 
terror.  In  the  rumbling  and  creaking  of  the  train,  which 
was  just  leaving  another  station,  she  had  not  perceived 
that  the  gentleman  in  the  corner  had  risen  and  had 
come  over  to  her.  She  was  first  made  aware  of  it  by 
feeling  something  brush  her  wrap.  She  looked  round ; 
before  her  sat  Lothar. 

"  It  is  really  you  ?"  he  said,  cordially.  "  Eecognized 
in  spite  of  the  veil !  But  of  course ! — Where  else  could 
be  found  that  golden  hair?  And  you,  too,  are  going 
to  the  capital  ?"  His  eyes  shone  with  delighted  sur- 
prise. Involuntarily  his  right  hand  had  been  extended, 
as  if  to  clasp  hers;  he  bad  taken  off  his  fur  cap;  now, 
as  if  to  conceal  some  embarrassment,  he  put  it  on  again. 

Claudine  sat  like  a  statue.  She  had  collected  herself 
very  quickly. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  keeping  her  hands  clasped  in 
side  her  muff.  "  The  Chamberlain  von  Schlotbach  tele- 
graphed to  me  that  their  Highnesses  would  arrive  to- 
morrow morning,  and  so  I  set  out  immediate!}'." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  329 

"  But  tell  mo,  how  is  all  going  on  in  the  Paulinen- 
thal  ?" 

"  Well,"  was  the  reply. 

"  And  my  little  one  ?" 

"  She  is  well,  I  believe." 

"  You  believe  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  bitter  emphasis. 

For  a  while  both  were  silent.  The  train  stopped; 
the  snow  outside  crunched  beneath  heavy  footsteps ;  a 
carriage  door  was  opened  and  shut;  the  bell  rang,  the 
engine  whistled,  and  the  train  rolled  on. 

"  Claudine,"  he  began,  with  hesitation,  "  I  wrote  to 
you  the  day  before  yesterday.  The  letter  will  reach 
the  Owl's  Nest  early  this  morning." 

She  inclined  her  head  slightly,  without  looking  at  him. 

"I  was  in  a  fearful  state  of  mind,"  he  went  on. 
"Imagine  me  in  that  old,  scantily-furnished  castle,  two 
hours'  drive  from  the  nearest  town,  completely  snowed 
up.  Fancy  me  wet  to  the  skin,  just  returned  from 
deer-stalking,  sitting  opposite  a  smoking  fire  that  will 
hardly  burn,  the  snow  falling  outside,  and  so  lonely,  so 
terribly  lonely  in  the  dreary  pile.  In  addition  I  have 
actual  visions :  I  see  the  Neuhaus  sitting-room,  see  my 
little  one  playing  there,  hear  her  shouts,  and  think  I 
perceive  the  fragrance  of  roast  apples, — sure  to  be 
found  there  at  this  season  of  the  year."  He  paused  a 
moment.  "  And  then, — then  I  think, '  Good  God  !  why 
do  you  sit  here  so  sadly  ?'  At  such  a  moment  I  roused 
myself  the  day  before  yesterday  and  wrote  to  you  on 
the  spot  to  ask  you " 

She  interrupted  him :  "  Why  ask  ?  I  cannot  force 
you  to  keep  your  promise,  and  I  never  desired  that 
you  should  go  to  Castle  Stein.  You  could  surely  have 
gone  to  Berlin  or  Yienna  or  Paris,  or  to  some  large 
city  even  more  distant." 

28* 


330  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

He  let  her  finish  her  sentence,  and  then  went  on 
calmly,  "I  wished  to  ask  you,  Claudine,  if  this  farce 
is  never  to  end.  It  is  surely  wrong " 

She  started  up.     Was  he  in  earnest  ? 

"  You  say  this  to  me  now,"  she  exclaimed,  indig- 
nantly,— "  now,  when  the  decisive  moment  is  at  hand  ? 
The  poor  Duchess  may  perhaps  not  live  twenty-four 
hours  longer.  Are  you  in  such  haste  to  regain  your 
freedom  ?" 

"  You  are  very  bitter,  Claudine,"  he  said,  reproach- 
fully, and  there  was  something  of  compassion  in  his 
tone,  "  but  you  are  right.  In  view  of  the  sad  days, 
to  encounter  which  we  are  both  going,  we  ought  not  to 
speak  of  such  things ;  nevertheless " 

"  No,  no !  ,do  not  speak  of  it,"  she  urged. 

"Nevertheless,  I  cannot  do  otherwise,"  he  went  on, 
undeterred.  "Her  Highness  has  finally  appealed  di- 
rectly to  me."  He  took  out  his  letter-case  and  handed 
her  a  letter.  "  You  had  better  read  it  yourself." 

Claudine  made  a  gesture  of  refusal. 

"  It  is  a  note  written  by  the  Duchess's  own  hand," 
he  went  on,  without  withdrawing  the  paper.  "  The 
poor  lady  is  embittering  her  last  hours  with  needless 
anxieties.  If  you  will  allow  me,  cousin,  I  will  read  it 
to  you." 

Scarcely  glancing  at  the  girl's  pale  face,  he  began: 

"Mr  DEAR  BARON, — After  a  long  inward  struggle  a 
dying  woman  writes  you  these  lines,  praying  your  aid, 
as  far  as  is  possible,  in  an  affair  of  great  delicacy. 

"  Answer  me  truly  one  question,  the  indiscretion  of 
which  you  will  forgive  when  I  am  no  longer  among 
the  living.  Do  you  love  your  cousin  ?  If  your  suit 
for  her  hand  was  merely  an  act  of  prudence  and  mag- 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  331 

nanimity,  then,  Baron,  restore  her  freedom  to  the  poor 
girl,  and  be  assured  that  you  will  thereby  insure  a 
happy  future  to  the  two  people  dearest  to  me  on 
earth.  "  ELIZABETH." 

Claudine's  blue  eyes  gazed  in  despair  at  the  small 
sheet  of  paper.  Merciful  God!  what  did  it  mean? 
Was  the  Duchess  still  possessed  by  the  old  delusion 
that  her  husband  loved  her,  or  she  him?  Or  had  the 
Princess  Helena  confided  in  her,  and  did  the  Duchess 
wish  to  intercede  for  Lothar  and  for  her  ? 

"And  you?"  at  last  came  brokenly  from  her  lips. 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  take  my  answer  to  the  Duchess, 
Claudine.  You  yourself  know,  I  trust,  that  it  was 
quite  needless  for  the  Duchess  to  ask  me  to  speak 
truly.  I  have  all  my  life  acted  frankly;  once  only  did  I 
countenance  a  deception,  because  my  sense  of  delicacy 
robbed  me  of  the  courage  to  speak,  because  I  thought 
honour  bade  me  redeem  my  word,  even  at  the  sacrifice 
of  the  happiness  of  my  life.  No  more  of  that.  That 
past  is  buried.  Since  then  no  considerations  have  ever 
prevented  me  from  acting  in  accordance  with  my 
convictions.  I  shall  briefly  explain  to  her  Highness 
that " 

A  low  cry  interrupted  him  ;  Claudine  extended  her 
hand  to  him  imploringly,  her  eyes  gazing  into  his  own 
with  an  expression  of  intense  pain.  "Hush,  hush;  I 
am  not  the  Duchess!"  she  stammered. 

He  paused  at  such  an  entreaty,  while  the  girl  sprang 
up  and  took  refuge  in  the  opposite  corner  of  the  car- 
riage. 

At  this  moment  lanterns  glided  past  the  window; 
the  train  went  more  slowly;  in  the  melancholy  dawn 
of  a  snowy  morning  the  Baron  recognized  the  railway- 


332  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

station  of  the  capital,  and  the  ducal  fortress  looming 
grim  and  gray  above  the  town. 

Claudine  had  alighted  before  he  had  time  to  assist 
her.  A  lackey  in  the  ducal  livery  awaited  her  with  a 
carriage.  As  she  was  hastily  entering  it,  Lothar  stood 
at  the  door.  In  the  cold  gray  light  of  morning  his 
face  looked  changed :  he  seemed  to  Claudine  to  have 
grown  years  older  in  the  last  two  months. 

"  I  pray  you,  cousin,  appoint  some  time  when  I  may 
have  an  interview  with  you,"  he  said,  courteously,  but 
decidedly. 

"  To-morrow,"  she  replied. 

"  No't  until  to-morrow  ?" 

"  To-morrow,"  she  repeated. 

He  retired  with  a  bow,  and  a  few  moments  after- 
wards passed  in  the  clumsy  hotel-omnibus  through  the 
southern  gate  of  the  town  by  the  same  road  along 
which  Claudine  had  been  driven  rapidly  in  the  ducal 
equipage. 

"  What,"  he  thought,  distressed  at  her  extraordinary 
demeanour, — "  what  if  the  Duchess  should  be  right, 
after  all,  and  she  should  actually  love  the  Duke  ?  What 
if  I  should  be  absolutely  indifferent  to  her, — absolutely 
indifferent  ?" 

He  had  always  prided  himself  upon  his  comprehen- 
sion of  women ;  he  thought  he  knew  Claudine.  To-day, 
for  the  first  time,  he  was  assailed  by  grave  doubts. 


Claudine  drove  up  the  steep  castle  hill  and  alighted 
at  the  portal  of  the  wing  inhabited  by  the  Dowager 
Duchess.  The  rising  sun  tipped  with  crimson  the  steep 
snow-covered  gables,  the  towers  and  walls  of  the  ducal 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  333 

residence,  and  at  the  same  moment  the  ducal  banner 
was  displayed  on  the  tallest  tower  in  the  city  below, 
still  lying  in  gray  twilight,  in  token  that  its  mistress 
was  returning  to  her  home — to  die. 

Claudino  found  a  couple  of  rooms  in  the  second  story 
prepared  for  her,  and  in  the  course  of  the  forenoon  the 
Dowager  Duchess  sent  for  her.  The  kindly  old  Duch- 
ess's eyes  showed  traces  of  tears ;  she  was  sitting  at 
the  familiar  window,  gazing  abroad  over  the  roofs  of 
her  dear  city  into  the  snowy  distance.  Oh,  how  often 
Claudine  had  sat  here  before  her  in  the  snug  room,  with 
its  stiff,  costly  furniture  dating  from  the  time  of  the 
First  Empire,  and  the  many,  many  pictures  on  the 
walls,  enjoying  the  magnificent  prospect  with  her  ducal 
mistress!  At  the  present  moment  neither  had  any 
eyes  for  its  beauties.  Their  gaze  was  directed  to  the 
spot  where  the  railway  emerged  from  the  forest, — the 
railway  upon  which  the  train  was  bringing  home  the 
poor  invalid. 

The  Duchess  had  had  another  hemorrhage  at  Cannes, 
and  had  but  one  desire, — to  see  her  children  once  more, 
and  to  arrange  various  matters  before  her  death.  The 
little  Princes  had  been  left  at  home :  their  presence  was 
thought  to  be  too  exciting.  The  physician  had  forbid- 
den their  accompanying  her  to  Cannes,  although  she 
had  declared,  "  Herr  Doctor,  I  shall  die  of  longing  for 
them  !" 

The  old  Duchess  gently  shook  her  head  as  she  told 
Claudine  all  this:  "It  is  hard,  terribly  hard  for  Adal- 
bert: they  had  come  to  understand  each  other  thor- 
oughly, and  were  on  the  way  to  be  the  happiest  couple 
in  the  world.  He  writes  most  tenderly  of  her, — and 
now  ?"  She  sighed.  "  God  only  knows  what  lies  before 
us!" 


334  TEE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Their  Highnesses  had  forbidden  anything  like  a  re- 
ception of  them,  but  the  old  Duchess  wished  to  drive 
to  the  station  with  the  eldest  Prince,  and  she  asked 
Claudine  to  accompany  her.  About  two  o'clock  they 
drove  down  the  castle  hill ;  a  melancholy  November 
sky  canopied  the  city,  and  large  snow-flakes  were  fall- 
ing. But  in  spite  of  the  weather  hundreds  of  people 
lined  the  street  leading  to  the  railway-station. 

The  Duchess's  landau  stopped  close  by  the  door  of 
the  ducal  waiting-room ;  the  police  kept  off  the  crowd 
which  silently  thronged  the  place.  All  stood  quietly 
in  a  large  circle  about  the  carriages.  Several  gentle- 
men were  on  the  platform ;  the  express-train  which 
was  to  bring  the  Duke  and  Duchess  had  already  been 
signalled.  At  last  it  whizzed  into  tbe  station,  and 
there  was  a  stir  and  bustle  on  the  platform.  The 
Duke  was  the  first  to  alight ;  he  kissed  his  venerable 
mother's  hand,  and  then  he  himself  lifted  his  suffer- 
ing wife  out  of  the  carriage.  All  looks  were  directed 
to  her  pale,  emaciated  face,  as  her  large  eyes  eagerly 
sought  the  Prince.  She  embraced  the  old  Duchess  and 
kissed  the  boy  with  a  sad  smile.  "  Here  I  am  again," 
she  whispered,  faintly.  She  could  hardly  walk  the  few 
steps  to  the  waiting-room,  supported  by  the  Duke  and 
the  Prince ;  kindly  but  wearily  she  acknowledged  the 
greetings  of  the  crowd.  The  Princess  Helena  with  her 
lady-in-waiting,  Frau  von  Katzenstein,  and  the  gentle- 
men of  the  suite,  followed  her  immediately. 

When  she  saw  Claudine  her  face  worked ;  she  beck- 
oned and  pointed  to  the  carriage. 

The  girl  hurried  towards  her.  "  Ah,  your  Highness," 
she  stammered,  much  moved,  bowing  over  the  extended 
hand. 

"  Come,  Dina,"  the  Duchess  whispered,  "  drive  with 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  335 

me ;  and  you  too,  my  darling,"  she  said  to  the  Prince. 
"  Adalbert  will  drive  with  mamma."  And  when  she 
had  been  lifted  into  the  carriage  she  said,  as  they 
drove  through  the  crowd  of  men  standing  silent  and 
respectful,  with  bowed  heads,  "  Bow,  my  child ;  bow 
very  kindly  ;  they  all  know  how  ill  I  am." 

She  herself  made  an  effort  to  lean  forward,  and 
lightly  waved  her  white  handkerchief. 

"The  last  time!  the  last  time!"  she  murmured. 
Then  she  clasped  the  girl's  hand :  "  How  good  it  is  to 
have  you  here !"  Arrived  at  the  castle,  she  dismissed 
her  friend  :  "  When  I  have  taken  a  rest  I  shall  send 
for  you,  Dina." 

Claudine  went  to  her  quiet  room,  and  looked  down 
into  the  wintry  court-yai'd,  which  had  suddenly  lost 
its  solitary  aspect.  Equipages  were  driving  up  and 
away,  sentinels  were  posted,  and  the  great  luggage-vans 
were  slowly  toiling  up  the  hill.  Down  below,  the  bells 
of  St.  Mary's  Church  were  ringing,  perhaps  for  a  wed- 
ding ;  here  and  there  lamps  were  already  lighted  in  the 
early  twilight,  and  it  was  snowing,  snowing  incessantly. 

Hours  passed.  Claudine's  tea  was  served  in  her 
room.  Leaning  back  in  an  arm-chair,  she  watched  the 
little  blue  flame  beneath  the  tea-kettle,  and  thought  of 
Lothar,  and  how  he  had  described  his  loneliness  and 
longing  in  the  deserted  castle  in  Saxony.  Oh,  yes,  it 
is  hard,  very  hard,  to  be  alone  with  torturing  thoughts, 
with  terrible  uncertainty.  Uncertainty  ?  She  felt  al- 
most angry  with  herself.  Good  heavens,  she  was  only 
too  certain  ! 

The  Princess  Helena  looked  well;  her  face  had  a 
changed,  pleasanter  expression.  The  restless,  passion- 
ate look  had  left  it;  she  hoped, — her  hope  was  well 
grounded. 


336  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Wherefore  had  the  Duchess  summoned  her  hither? 
Ah,  it  was  very  plain.  After  receiving  Lothar's  reply, 
she  would  say  to  her,  "  Claudine,  be  generous,  give  him 
back  his  troth  !  He  feels  himself  bound !" 

She  knew  well  that  he  never  would  dissolve  the  tie 
between  them.  He  relied  upon  her  magnanimity.  A 
passionately  defiant  mood  possessed  her.  "  "What  if  I 
refuse  ?  What  if  I  prefer  being  wretched  with  him  to 
being  wretched  without  him?  Who  can  prevent  me?" 
She  shook  her  head.  "  Oh,  never,  never !  !No !" 

The  old-fashioned  clock  on  the  console  struck  nine. 
The  Duchess  must  have  been  too  much  fatigued  to-day  ; 
there  was  no  longer  any  hope  of  seeing  her.  She  grew 
cold  suddenly  in  the  dim  room ;  the  little  flame  beneath 
the  tea-kettle  had  long  been  extinguished ;  there  was 
only  a  feeble  red  light  from  the  dying  embers  on  the 
hearth.  She  began  to  pace  the  room  to  and  fro;  she 
would  wait  until  ten  o'clock,  and  then  go  to  bed. 
Perhaps  she  should  be  able  to  sleep.  But  before  ten 
o'clock  the  waiting-maid  came  for  her  to  go  to  the 
Duchess. 

She  passed  along  the  corridor  and  up  and  down  vari- 
ous staircases  until  she  reached  the  well-warmed  and 
well-lighted  vestibule  at  the  entrance  to  her  Highness's 
apartments.  She  had  rarely  been  here  formerly.  At 
the  entertainments  given  in  the  castle  she  had  accom- 
panied the  Dowager  Duchess  only  to  the  state  apart- 
ments, and  she  had  endeavoured  to  avoid  attending 
her  Highness's  small  social  receptions.  But  to-day 
she  again  experienced  the  charm  of  those  magnifi- 
cent rooms.  Everywhere  walls,  carpets,  and  curtains 
showed  the  same  sumptuous  red ;  everywhere  the  light 
in  the  hanging  lamps  and  candelabra  shone  through 
veiled  crimson  shades  ;  everywhere  were  groups  of  rare 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  337 

exotics,  and  everywhere  were  brilliant  pictures  in  rich 
frames. 

"Morbid!  feverish  as  the  spirit  that  inhabits  these 
rooms,"  had  once  been  the  comment  of  his  Highness, 
who,  accustomed  to  the  pure  woodland  air,  felt  smoth- 
ered in  this  heavy,  fragrance-laden  atmosphere.  There 
was  a  degree  of  truth  in  his  words.  An  ardent  desire 
to  decorate  bare  reality,  a  longing  for  life  and  hap- 
piness, found  expression  in  the  arrangement  of  these 
apartments. 

The  Duchess  was  lying  on  a  low  bed  hung  with 
crimson  in  her  bedroom.  The  curtains  fell  from  the 
ceiling,  where  their  folds  were  sustained  by  the  claws 
of  a  gilded  eagle.  Here,  too,  the  same  crimson  light 
was  diffused,  tinging  the  invalid's  cheeks  with  a  mock 
hue  of  health. 

"  It  is  late,  Dina,"  her  Highness  said,  in  a  husky 
voice,  "  but  I  cannot  sleep  ;  I  hardly  sleep  at  all ;  and  I 
cannot  be  alone  ;  I  am  afraid.  I  have  had  the  curtains 
arranged  so  that  I  cannot  see  the  door:  I  am  pos- 
sessed by  an  inexplicable  terror  lest  something  fright- 
ful should  cross  the  threshold — our  family  phantom, 
the  White  Lady — to  tell  me  what  I  already  know,  that 
I  must  die.  Do  not  laugh  at  me,  Dina ;  I  used  to  like 
to  lie  in  the  dark.  Now  tell  me,  Claudine,  tell  me 
everything;  before  long  I  shall  not  be  able  to  hear 
you.  How  have  you  been,  Dina  ?  Tell  me !" 

Claudine  felt  for  an  instant  as  if  she  must  rush  from 
this  luxurious  room  with  its  gilded  ceiling  and  its  at- 
mosphere filled  with  the  odour  of  May  flowers  from 
the  conservatory. 

"  I  am  very  well,  Elizabeth  ;  I  am  only  distressed 
for  your  suffering,"  she  said,  sitting  down  beside  the 
bed. 

p        w  29 


338  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Clandine,"  the  invalid  began,  "  I  have  so  many 
things  to  write  about  and  to  arrange,  and  when  my 
father  and  sister  are  here, — they  are  to  arrive  shortly, 
— and  if  that  stifling  pain  comes  again  it  will  be  too 
late.  Help  me  with  it  a  little." 

"  Do  not  excite  yourself  unnecessarily,  Elizabeth." 

"No;  oh,  no;  but  please,  Dina!"  And  she  turned 
her  emaciated  face  towards  the  girl  and  looked  at 
her  from  large  and  unnaturally  brilliant  eyes,  as  if 
to  read  her  friend's  heart.  "You  are  so  strange  a 
betrothed  maiden,  Claudine,"  she  whispered  after  a 
while,  "  and  the  time  since  your  betrothal  has  passed 
so  strangely, — he  in  one  place,  you  in  another.  Clau- 
dine, confess  you  sacrificed  yourself  when  you  said 
'  yes'  on  that  terrible  day !  You  do  not  love  him, 
Claudine." 

She  hung  upon  the  girl's  looks  with  an  expression 
of  devouring  anguish. 

"Elizabeth,"  said  Claudine,  after  a  pause,  clasping 
her  hands  upon  her  breast,  "  I  love  Lothar,  and  have 
loved  him  from  the  time  when  I  scarcely  knew  what 
love  was, — when  I  was  hardly  more  than  a  child  I" 

The  Duchess  was  silent,  but  her  breath  came  quickly. 

"  Do  you  not  believe  me,  Elizabeth  ?"  asked  the  girl 
in  a  low  voice. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  you,  Dina.  But  does  he  love  you  ? 
Tell  me,  does  he  love  you  in  return  ?" 

Claudine  cast  down  her  eyes.  "  I  do  not  know,"  she 
stammered. 

"  And  if  you  knew  that  he  did  not  love  you,  would 
you  still  marry  him  ?" 

"  No,  Elizabeth." 

"And  could  you  not  then  consent  to  bestow  your 
hand  upon  another  who  loves  you  inexpressibly? ' 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  339 

The  girl  sat  like  a  statue  without  replying. 

"  Claudine,  do  you  know  why  I  have  come  back?" 
asked  the  Duchess,  with  passionate  emotion.  "  I  have 
come  to  try  with  my  last  breath  to  insure  a  coveted 
happiness  to  one  who  is  dearest  to  me  on  earth.  When 
I  went  to  Cannes  my  silly  weakness,  my  wounded 
heart,  were  still  struggling  with  my  better  self.  Clau- 
dine, the  Duke  loves  you ;  he  never  has  loved  me.  He 
loves  you  with  all  the  truth  and  fidelity  of  which  his 
noble  heart  is  capable.  In  all  these  years  of  our  mar- 
ried life  I  have  learned  to  read  his  features,  and  he 
loves  you,  Dina,  and  he  never  will  forget  you.  Do  not 
sit  there  so  mute  and  unmoved  j  for  God's  sake  answer 
me!" 

"You  are  wrong,"  Claudine  exclaimed,  in  great  dis- 
tress,— "  you  are  wrong.  His  Highness  no  longer  loves 
me ;  it  is  a  delusion  on  your  part.  You  must  not  at- 
tach any  importance  to  such  phantoms  of  your  brain. 
You  should  not  have  returned  for  this." 

"  Do  you  suppose,  Dina,  that  love  can  be  put  off  like 
a  garment  ?"  asked  the  Duchess,  bitterly ;  "  that  one  can 
decide — as  one  does  about  taking  a  walk,  for  instance 
— that  from  such  and  such  a  day  there  shall  be  an  end 
of  it?  The  heart  is  not  to  be  so  controlled." 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  Claudine  said,  in  a  low 
and  resolute  tone,  "  I  shall  never  marry,  never  without 
love  on  both  sides;  never!  Forgive  me,  Elizabeth,  A 
cannot  make  you  any  deceitful  promises.  Ask  any- 
thing that  you  will,  my  life  if  it  may  be,  but  not  that, 
—not  that." 

The  Duchess  gazed  past  Claudine  with  tearful  eyes. 
For  a  while  there  was  silence  in  the  apartment. 

"  Poor  man  !  I  thought  I  could  arrange  it  all  so  beau- 
tifully," she  said  as  if  to  herself.  "  It  is  not  to  be !" 


340  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

Then  in  a,  louder  voice,  "  Such  a  complication  ! — you 
love  Lothar,  and  he — poor  little  Princess  1" 

"  Elizabeth  !"  exclaimed  Claudine,  her  pale  lips  quiv- 
ering, "  I  never  will  stand  in  the  way  of  his  happi- 
ness,— what  can  you  think  of  me? — never!  never  I 
Do  me  one  favour,"  she  went  on,  hurriedly :  "  in  my 
name  give  him  back  his  freedom.  I  know  you  are 
going  to  speak  to  him  upon  this  subject." 

"  To-morrow,"  said  the  Duchess. 

"  Then  give  him  this."  She  drew  the  betrothal-ring 
from  her  finger.  "Here  is  happiness  for  the  Princess; 
take  it,  and — let  me  go  my  own  way  alone,  far  from 
everything  that  can  remind  me  of  him." 

She  started  up  and  hurried  towards  the  door. 

"  Claudine,"  the  Duchess's  weak  voice  entreated,  as 
her  transparent  fingers  closed  upon  the  ring, — "  Dina, 
do  not  leave  me  so !  Who  is  the  poorer  of  us  two  ? 
Rather  help  me  to  evolve  some  happiness  for  some  one 
out  of  all  this  pain." 

Claudine  returned.  "What  else  shall  I  do?"  she 
asked,  with  resignation. 

The  Duchess  asked  for  water,  then  took  a  portfolio 
from  the  table  beside  the  bed  and  handed  the  girl  a 
folded  paper. 

"  It  is  a  memorandum  of  the  little  mementos  which 
I  wish  distributed  after  my  death.  Keep  it:  it  is  a 
copy.  The  Duke  has  the  original." 

"  You  must  not  agitate  yourself  so,  Elizabeth." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  calmer  when  everything  is  arranged, 
Dina.  Read  it  aloud,  that  I  may  know  that  nothing  is 
omitted.  No  one  must  be  able  to  say,  '  She  forgot 
me.' " 

Claudine  read  in  trembling  accents.  Sometimes  tears 
rendered  the  writing  illegible  ;  everything  was  ordered 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  341 

with  such  tenderness ;  it  all  bore  witness  to  so  ardent 
and  affectionate  a  nature. 

"  To  my  dear  Claudine  I  give  the  Brussels  lace  veil 
which  I  wore  as  a  bride " 

A  burning  blush  suffused  the  girl's  distressed  face; 
she  knew  what  was  meant. 

"  Take  it  back !  take  it  back !"  she  sobbed,  kneeling 
beside  the  bed. 

"  Ob,  how  sad !  how  sad !"  said  the  Duchess.  "  You 
and  he,  both  wretched !  You  two, — my  best  beloved  on 
earth  !" 

Claudine  kissed  the  invalid's  hot  hands  and  hurried 
away;  the  misery  she  was  undergoing  was  too  intense. 

In  the  conservatory,  beneath  the  magnolias  and 
palms,  her  tears  flowed  freely;  the  soft  plash  of  the 
fountain  soothed  her  wild  despair;  in  a  few  minutes 
she  had  so  far  recovered  herself  that  she  could  say 
'good-night'  calmly;  but  when  she  peeped  through 
the  silken  curtains  the  invalid  was  lying  apparently 
asleep,  and  the  girl  could  perceive  lines  of  pain  about 
the  mouth. 

In  the  anteroom  Claudine  met  the  old  Medizinalrath, 
who  greeted  her  kindly. 

"  Is  the  end  really  so  very  near  ?"  asked  the  agitated 
girl. 

"  As  long  as  there  is  life  there  is  hope,  Fraulein  von 
Gerold.  But,  humanly  speaking,  her  Highness's  life  is 
liable  to  cease  at  any  moment, — to  be  extinguished  like 
the  flame  of  a  candle." 

Claudine  involuntarily  pointed  to  her  arm :  "  Herr 
Doctor?" 

"Ah,  Fraulein  Claudine,"  said  the  old  man,  with 
emotion,  "that  can  no  longer  avail.  All  has  gone 
here !"  And  he  put  his  hand  on  his  chest.  "  I  am  going 

29* 


342  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

to  the  Duke  to  report  as  to  her  Highness's  condition," 
he  said,  in  an  undertone,  as  he  walked  beside  Claudine 
along  the  corridor.  "  Moreover,  his  Highness  found  a 
very  unpleasant  surprise  awaiting  him  here.  Have  you 
heard  of  it?  Palmer  has  disappeared,  leaving  affairs 
in  the  greatest  confusion." 

"  He  went  by  rail  to  Frankfort  last  night,"  said  Clau 
dine,  startled.  "  I  saw  him  at  the  station  at  Wehrburg, 
and  supposed  he  was  on  his  way  to  meet  their  High- 
nesses." 

"  The  scoundrel !"  murmured  the  old  gentleman. 
"  He  is  far  enough  out  of  reach  by  this  time.  Meet 
their  Highnesses?  What  put  that  into  your  head, 
Fraulein  Claudine?" 

"  I  heard  him  speak  of  it  to  Frau  von  Berg."  Clau- 
dine paused ;  the  whole  matter  suddenly  became  clear 
to  her. 

"They  are  a  match!"  the  physician  said,  with  a 
laugh.  "  I  will  mention  what  you  tell  me  to  his  High- 
ness. To-morrow,  be  sure,  we  shall  hear  that  the  Berg 
has  also  disappeared,  leaving  things  in  sad  confusion 
behind  her.  'Tis  not  well  to  be  malicious,  but  indeed 
it  serves  her  Grace  right;  the  protection  extended  by 
her  to  that  creature  was  most  extraordinary.  Good- 
night, Fraulein  Claudine." 

The  old  doctor  was  right.  The  next  morning  every 
one  in  the  castle  knew  that  Frau  von  Berg  had  sud- 
denly disappeared.  The  only '  confusion,'  however,  that 
she  had  left  behind  her  consisted  of  a  bundle  of  letters 
addressed  to  the  Duchess  and  a  note  for  his  Highness. 
But  the  guardian  angel  keeping  watch — in  the  shape 
of  Frau  von  Katzenstein — at  the  door  of  the  sick-room 
suspected  that  the  contents  of  the  packet  could  hardly 
be  satisfactory  to  her  Highness,  and  calmly  handed  it 


THE  OWL'S  NEST  343 

over  to  the  Duke.  The  old  lady  presented  herself 
in  his  study  just  as  he  was  looking  over  some  papers 
with  a  very  angry  frown,  while  the  chief  of  police 
stood  by. 

The  Duke  probably  thought  that  Frau  von  Katzen- 
stein  came  to  bring  him  tidings  of  her  Highness ;  in- 
stead of  which  the  old  lady  gravely  handed  him  a 
bundle  of  letters  tied  with  a  sky-blue  ribbon,  the  top- 
most one  bearing  the  address,  in  a  hand  extremely  like 
his  Highness's  own,  of  Frau  von  Berg. 

The  Duke  turned  pale. 

"And  this  was  to  be  handed  to  her  Highness?"  he 
asked,  with  emotion,  gazing  blankly  at  these  witnesses 
to  a  gay  bachelorhood,  when  there  were  frequent  suppers 
at  Herr  and  Frau  von  Berg's,  and  baccarat  afterwards 
in  the  pretty  woman's  blue  drawing-room.  This  creat- 
ure, who  had  never  even  breathed  the  atmosphere  of 
the  same  room  with  the  woman  whose  few  days  of  life 
she  had  tried  to  embitter,  had  dared  thus  to  disturb 
a  death-bed ! 

"I  thank  you,  madame,"  said  the  Duke,  deeply 
moved,  throwing  the  letters  into  the  fire  burning  on 
the  hearth,  and  tossing  after  them  the  other  papers 
which  he  had  been  looking  over.  Involuntarily  he 
brushed  off  his  fingers  with  his  pocket-handkerchief 
after  thus  getting  rid  of  the  obnoxious  documents. 
"  Let  the  scoundrel  go,  Herr  von  Schmidt,"  he  said, 
contemptuously,  with  a  friendly  gesture  of  dismissal 
to  the  chief  of  police. 

After  the  man  had  departed  the  Duke  paced  the  room 
to  and  fro  in  much  agitation.  One  of  the  letters,  a 
very  small  note,  still  lay  unharmed  on  the  hearth  ;  the 
Duke  perceived  it  after  a  while  and  picked  it  up.  It 
was  in  Herr  von  Palmer's  familiar  handwriting. 


344  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

"  Yesterday  evening,"  it  ran,  "  I  was  sent  with  a  note 
from  the  Duke  to  the  fair  Claudine ;  I  stole  it  from  her 
as  I  handed  her  into  the  carriage.  Herewith  I  place 
the  precious  document  at  your  disposal,  to  be  turned 
to  such  account  as  your  acute  intelligence  may  suggest. 
I  am  sure  that  my  dearest  friend  will  know  how  to 
lay  the  train  so  skilfully  that  the  two  ladies  so  kindly 
disposed  towards  us  shall  be  blown  sky-high " 

"  Palmer  was  at  work  there  too,  then  !"  His  High- 
ness smiled  bitterly,  and  thought  of  the  hot-blooded, 
dark-eyed  girl  into  whose  hands  had  been  given  the 
match  to  apply  to  this  train.  The  mine  had  exploded  ; 
its  first  victim  lay  dying,  and — the  criminals  had  es- 
caped. 

That  cunning  rogue  had  certainly  contrived  to  cheat 
and  betray  with  so  smiling  and  natural  an  air  that  the 
consequences  were  extraordinary.  There  was  not  an 
official,  not  a  servant  connected  with  the  court,  whose 
pay  was  not  in  arrears,  not  a  purveyor  who  had  re- 
ceived a  penny  for  the  last  two  years.  The  Duke's 
agents  had  their  hands  full  in  discovering  what  was 
owing.  All  sorts  of  tradesfolk  presented  their  accounts 
as  soon  as  Palmer's  flight  was  made  known.  The  Duke 
laughed  angrily  when  he  heard  the  details. 

The  Dowager  Duchess,  so  scrupulously  exact  in  all 
money-matters,  was  indignant  at  being  obliged  to  pay 
twice  for  a  landau  which  had  been  built  for  her,  and 
her  annoyance  was  much  increased  by  the  thought  of 
how  placidly  she  had  repeatedly  driven  in  this  landau 
past  the  place  of  business  of  the  manufacturer  who 
had  in  vain  dunned  Palmer  for  payment.  The  entire 
capital  was  outraged,  and  in  thought  devoted  the 
scoundrel  to  the  gallows;  but  such  sly  birds  usually 
go  scot-free. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  345 

Claudine  was  lold  much  of  this  by  the  maid;  it 
scarcely  aroused  in  her  the  most  fleeting  interest. 
She  could  think  of  nothing  save  what  to-day  might 
bring  her, — the  decision  of  her  future  fate.  The 
Duchess  was  reported  as  no  worse ;  she  had  slept  for 
several  hours,  but  had  not  yet  summoned  her  friend. 

The  girl  stood  at  the  window  looking  out  at  the  gray 
November  sky.  It  was  still  snowing.  The  sight  of 
the  dreary  world  outside  further  depressed  her  spirit, 
already  sorely  burdened.  Suddenly  she  blushed, — a 
carriage  rolled  into  the  court-yard  and  drew  up  at  the 
portal  of  the  wing  occupied  by  the  Duchess.  It  was 
he.  Lothar's  tall  figure  vanished  in  the  vestibule.  He 
had  come  to  give  his  answer  to  her  Highness  I 

She  could  scarcely  stand,  in  her  agitation  ;  what  right 
had  a  ray  of  hope  to  intrude  upon  her  anguish  ?  Every 
word  he  had  spoken  to  her  since  he  saw  her  for  the 
first  time  after  his  return,  in  the  garden  at  Neuhaus  on 
the  day  when  she  had  gone  over  to  tell  Beata  of  the 
discovery  of  the  wax,  had  been  offensive, — sharp  as 
polished  steel.  He  had  mistrusted  and  contemned  her 
whenever  he  could  ;  no,  no,  he  did  not  love  herl  Once, 
only  once,  her  heart  had  foolishly  throbbed  high  with 
delight, — on  that  dark  summer  night  when  he  had  rid- 
den to  the  Owl's  Nest  to  gaze  up  at  her  window ;  there 
had  then  been  one  moment  of  intoxicating  happiness. 
But  it  did  not  last ;  it  bad  simply  been  a  military  habit 
with  him  to  make  a  tour  of  inspection  ;  he  had  wished 
to  convince  himself  that  the  family  honour  was  safe ! 

She  turned  away  from  the  window  and  went  to  the 
table,  where  her  breakfast  was  still  standing.  She 
poured  out  half  a  glass  of  wine  and  put  it  to  her  lips: 
she  did  not  like  wine,  but  she  felt  at  the  moment  so 
deplorably  weak.  A  low  knock  at  the  door  caused  her 


346  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

to  put  down  the  glass  before  she  had  drunk.  "  Come 
in"  was  so  faintly  uttered  that  it  could  not  possibly 
have  been  heard  by  any  one  outside.  Nevertheless 
Frau  von  Katzenstein  opened  the  door  and  came  into 
the  room  with  an  air  of  grave  friendliness.  She  had 
brought  with  her  a  basket  covered  with  white  tissue- 
paper. 

"  My  dear  Gerold,"  she  said,  kindly,  "  her  Highness 
has  just  commissioned  me  to  give  you  this."  She  put 
the  basket  on  the  table  and  approached  Claudine. 
"  The  Duchess  wishes  to  see  you  in  half  an  hour,"  she 
added,  pressing  the  girl's  hand.  "  Forgive  me  for  not 
staying  any  longer.  I  cannot  leave  the  invalid." 

"  How  is  she  ?"  Claudine  asked. 

"  She  does  not  complain  to-day  ;  she  says  she  has  not 
nearly  so  much  oppression,"  replied  the  old  lady,  still 
out  of  breath  with  mounting  the  stairs. 

"  And  you  took  the  trouble  to  come  yourself!"  Clau- 
dine said,  absently ;  but  Frau  von  Katzenstein  had  left 
the  room. 

Claudine  scarcely  noticed  the  basket ;  in  half  an  hour 
she  should  know  whether  he  had  taken  back  her  ring ; 
Burely  she  should  be  told  the  truth  ? 

She  began  to  wander  restlessly  about  the  room. 
Then  she  went  to  the  window.  The  guard  had  just  been 
called  out ;  the  Duke  was  driving  across  the  court-yard 
in  a  sleigh  j  two  other  sleighs  were  following  him.  Was 
he  trying  to  escape  anxiety  and  annoyance  ?  She  too 
felt  a  desire  to  run  out  into  the  park,  to  cool  her  hot 
forehead  in  the  snowy  air,  to  walk  till  she  was  weary 
and  could  find  forgetfulness  in  sleep.  She  paused  me- 
chanically before  the  basket  the  Duchess  had  sent  her ;  it 
was  probably  some  gift  procured  for  her  at  Cannes ;  her 
Highness  was  so  fond  of  giving  to  those  whom  she  loved. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  347 

She  lifted  the  paper  a  little;  she  must  know  what 
the  gift  was  for  which  she  should  thank  her  friend  in 
a  few  moments.  The  basket  was  lined  with  blue  silk, 
and  in  it,  upon  a  folded  fabric  of  costly  lace,  lay  a  spray 
of  blossoming  myrtle  drawn  through  her  betrothal- 
rinir.  .  .  . 

The  pale,  panting  girl  was  on  the  staircase  in  an 
instant;  she  hurried  along  the  corridors,  and  not  until 
she  had  reached  the  antechamber  to  her  Highness's 
room  was  she  conscious  that  her  strength  was  all  but 
exhausted.  In  the  antechamber  the  Medizinalrath 
was  whispering  with  Frau  von  Katzenstein.  The  old 
lady  pointed  towards  the  next  room  and  laid  her  finger 
on  her  lips.  "  Her  Highness  is  taking  a  little  sleep," 
she  said,  softly. 

As  in  a  dream  Claudine  passed  on  to  what  was  called 
the  Duchess's  study, — a  small  room  wainscoted  with 
costly  foreign  woods,  and  with  walls  covered  with  an- 
tique pressed  and  gilded  leather.  The  book-shelves  and 
writing-table  were  of  dark  oak  ;  heavy  curtains  and 
rugs,  and  the  busts  of  Goethe,  Shakespeare,  and  Byron, 
lent  it  a  home-like  air.  On  this  gray  day  the  light 
here  was  dim ;  a  glass  door,  the  curtain  of  which  was 
half  drawn  aside,  led  into  the  conservatory,  and  at  this 
door  stood  Lothar,  contemplating  with  apparent  inter- 
est a  spray  of  blooming  yellow  roses. 

His  back  was  turned  to  Claudine,  and  involuntarily 
the  girl  retreated  to  a  recess  formed  by  the  book- 
shelves, where  she  could  neither  see  nor  be  seen  ;  she 
could  not  meet  him  as  yet,  and  she  shrank  back  into 
her  place  of  refuge,  her  heart  beating  fast.  She  would 
not  have  the  ring,  which  she  believed  had  been  re- 
turned out  of  compassion.  Ah,  she  knew  he  did  not 
choose  to  break  his  promise ;  nothing  should  induce 


348  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

her  to  keep  the  token  of  a  word  so  given.  She  was 
looking  about  her  for  some  means  of  escape,  when  the 
hard  voice  of  the  Princess  Thekla  fell  on  her  ears. 

"Well,  Baron,"  it  said,  "here  you  are  at  last!  Do 
you  know  that  I  am  quite  vexed  with  you  ?  You  have 
been  here  since  yesterday,  and  have  not  let  us  see  you 
at  the  Eed  Castle." 

"  It  certainly  was  wrong,  your  Grace.  But  I  found 
so  many  things  to  do,  and,  besides,  one  does  not  usually 
pay  visits  upon  his  wedding-day." 

"Wedding-day?"  the  old  lady  repeated,  with  a  shrill 
laugh.  "This  is  a  poor  time  for  jesting,  with  the 
Duchess  mortally  ill !  Eeally,  Lothar,  you  are  some- 
times quite  incomprehensible  1  Do  you  not  know  that 
her  Highness  may  die  this  very  day  ?" 

"  What  ?  your  Grace  imagines  that  I  could  indulge 
in  so  untimely  a  jest?  Nothing  is  further  from  my 
mind.  I  myself  was  startled  at  first,  but  the  Duchess 
desires  that  our  marriage  should  take  place  to-day; 
with  my  betrothed's  consent,  of  course." 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Baron.  And  why  should  your 
betrothed  not  consent  ?  She  was  very  ready  to  be  be- 
trothed, and  marriage  naturally  follows  a  betrothal. 
'Tis  a  strange  caprice  on  her  Highness's  part." 

"  Strange  ?  Is  it  so  strange  that  her  Highness  should 
wish  before  she  dies  to  see  the  happiness  of  two  people 
safely  moored  in  port,  secure  from  all  the  snares  and 
perils  to  which  it  is  exposed  so  long  as  those  two  are 
not  united  ?  I  confess  it  does  not  seem  to  me  extraor- 
dinary. I  am  grateful  from  my  soul  for  this  '  strange 
caprice.'  " 

"  You  did  not  always  find  protection  so  necessary, 
Gerold.  Since  when  have  you  felt  so  weak?  You 
knew  how  to  defy  my  opposition  when  I  refused  you 


THE   OWL'S  NEST.  349 

the  hand  of  my  daughter.  Since  when  have  you  so 
dreaded  the  right  of  the  stronger, — let  us  say  the  right 
of  the  more  powerful  ?  Or " 

"  I  fear  no  honest  enemy,"  he  replied,  slowly.  "  Your 
Grace  is  aware  of  the  fabled  magnanimity  of  the  lion. 
I  do  not  fear  him  as  a  foe;  I  fear  the  gliding  serpent, 
whose  venomous  bite  can  be  given  before  its  victim  is 
aware  of  danger.  I  cannot  protect  her  who  is  to  be 
my  wife  from  malicious  slander  unless  she  is  mine  in 
reality,  for  I  fight  here  with  unequal  weapons.  In 
spite  of  my  years  of  court  life,  intrigue  must  always  be 
an  unfamiliar  tongue  to  me  ;  I  might  as  well  bo  required 
to  read  fluently  and  translate  an  Assyrian  inscription. 
And  I  fear,  your  Grace,  that  I  shall  never  learn  it,  even 
from  the  most  striking  examples." 

But  the  Princess  did  not  seem  to  understand  him. 
"  Or,"  she  repeated,  continuing  her  sentence  undeterred, 
"  are  you  anxious  to  secure  your  betrothed's  fidelity  by 
placing  it,  so  to  speak,  behind  the  bolts  and  bars  of  a 
matrimonial  vow  ?" 

"  Your  Grace  is  partly  right,"  he  replied,  courteously. 
"  I  am  indeed  anxious,  not  about  the  fidelity  and  firm- 
ness of  my  betrothed,  but  because  I  do  not  yet  know 
whether  she  has  forgiven  the  audacity  with  which,  in 
my  distress,  I  attempted  to  force  a  '  yes'  from  her." 

The  old  Princess  laughed :  "  Eeally,  cher  Baron,  one 
might  almost  suppose  that  in  the  case  of  your  not  pro- 
curing the  forgiveness  of  which  you  speak  you  could 
be  tempted  to  take  your  own  life,  or  to  commit  some 
other  desperate  deed." 

"  Take  my  own  life  ?  No !  I  have  a  child  to  whom 
my  life  belongs;  but  I  should  be  a  wretched,  solitary 
man,  your  Grace,  for  I  love  my  betrothed  with  my 
whole  soul." 

30 


350  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

Claudine  advanced  a  step  or  two  towards  the  door, 
but  she  paused.  She  could  see  the  Princess  in  her 
black  fur-lined  cloak, — could  see  how  the  broad  fan- 
palm  beneath  which  she  was  standing  waved  gently, 
and  how  her  sharp,  sallow  face  changed  colour,  as  if 
with  disagreeable  surprise.  The  girl  leaned  for  sup- 
port against  the  carved  end  of  the  book-shelves  as 
she  heard  her  Grace  say,  in  a  tone  of  extreme  con- 
tempt,— 

"  Your  love  for  this  lady,  Baron,  is  no  guarantee  in 
mj  eyes  for  the  excellence  of  character  of  one  who  is 
to  be  my  grand-daughter's  step-mother." 

"  Your  Grace,"  was  the  quiet  reply,  "  probably  wishes 
to  hear  me  declare  again  that  I  claim  for  myself  the 
sole  right  to  decide  as  to  Leonie's  training.  I  gladly 
assume  the  responsibility.  She  who  is  to  be  the  child's 
mother  is,  in  my  eyes,  the  noblest,  the  best,  the  most 
unselfish  of  God's  creatures  !  Never,  even  in  thought, 
has  she  swerved  from  the  path  which  honour  prescribes 
that  a  woman  should  pursue  ;  never.  This  I  know.  In 
her  love  for  her  invalid  friend  my  betrothed  may  have 
forgotten  tbat  a  thousand  malicious,  envious  tongues 
were  ready  to  misconstrue  and  to  slander  ;  in  my  heart 
she  stands,  therefore,  all  the  higher.  It  is  easy,  your 
Grace,  to  play  the  part  of  an  honourable  woman  before 
the  eyes  of  the  world  ;  but  alone,  with  no  support  but 
the  courage  of  a  good  conscience,  to  defy  that  world, 
knowing  that  it  could  crush  us ;  to  be  firm  in  what  we 
know  to  be  right,  conscious  that  we  are  falsely  judged ; 
to  be  steadfast  in  performing,  under  all  circumstances, 
every  duty  prompted  by  honest  affection,  even  although 
such  duty  should  be  that  owing  to  a  friendship  regarded 
with  suspicion  by  many ;  to  be  and  to  do  all  this,  your 
Grace,  requires  purity  of  heart  and  strength  of  char- 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  351 

acter,  qualities  which  I  have  hitherto  sought  in  vain 
in " 

"  Lothar !"  Claudine  called  out.  Tho  glass  dome 
of  the  conservatory  swam  before  her  eyes,  the  ground 
beneath  her  seemed  unsteady.  Then  she  felt  an  arm 
thrown  about  her,  and  "  Claudine  !"  sounded  in  her  ear. 

"  Do  not  be  so  hard,"  she  whispered,  "  not  so  hard. 
The  thought  that  others  are  vexed  and  angry  suits  so 
ill  with  such  a  flood  of  happiness  as  now  overwhelms 
me!" 

They  were  alone.  She  looked  up  at  him  with  her  blue 
eyes  swimming  with  tears.  "Not  a  word,"  she  said, 
laying  her  hand  upon  his  lips, — "  not  a  word,  Lothar ; 
this  is  not  the  time  to  be  happy.  I  know  enough,  and 
death  is  very  near  us." 

"  You  will  not  oppose  the  wish  of  the  dying  ?"  he 
said,  entreatingly  and  humbly. 

"  I  will  not  oppose  it." 

"  And  we  will  go  back  to  our  quiet  Neuhaus,  Clau 
dine?" 

"No,"  she  said,  resolutely;  "oh,  no!  I  will  not 
leave,  as  long  as  she  lives,  one  who  has  suffered  so 
much  because  of  me.  I  have  no  more  fear,  for  I  know 
now  that  you  and  I  belong  to  each  other  forever, — that 
you  trust  me  and  believe  in  me.  And  you, — you  will 
travel  meanwhile.  Once  more  I  send  you  from  me; 
and  then,  when  you  return, — when  my  heart  can  again 
rejoice,  when  I  can  feel  that  I  have  a  right  to  be 
happy, — I  will  come  to  you." 


Towards  evening  there  was  a  marriage  in  the  Duch- 
ess's apartments.    All  in  the  castle  knew  it,  from  the 


352  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

head  of  the  linen-room  in  her  snug  quarters  in  the 
garret  to  the  scullery-boy  who  was  fitting  himself  in 
the  cellars  for  his  future  career.  They  all  knew  that 
immediately  after  the  marriage  the  bridegroom  had  set 
out  upon  a  journey,  and  that  Frau  Claudine  von  Gerold 
had  taken  her  place  at  the  Duchess's  bedside. 

Her  Highness  was  very  weak  this  evening.  She  had 
been  present  at  the  ceremony,  and  had  with  her  own 
trembling  hands  fastened  the  bridal  veil  upon  the  girl's 
fair  head.  His  Highness,  the  Dowager  Duchess,  and 
Frau  von  Katzenstein  had  been  the  other  witnesses  of 
the  marriage,  and  in  their  presence  the  young  couple 
had  taken  leave  of  each  other. 

And  now  beside  Claudine  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  sat  a 
graceful  little  figure,  and  both  had  been  weeping.  After 
the  marriage  ceremony  the  Duchess  had  fainted,  and 
the  Medizinalrath  had  gone  to  the  Duke  and  had  whis- 
pered to  him  to  be  prepared  for  the  inevitable. 

The  end  was  very  near. 

Outside,  the  snow-clouds  were  rent  asunder  and  the 
stars  glittered  down  upon  the  wintry  earth.  The 
swinging  lamp  in  the  Princes'  nursery  cast  a  pale 
gleam  upon  their  fair  heads  as  they  slept  soundly; 
they  were  unconscious.  But  for  the  rest  there  was  no 
sleep  this  night.  The  lights  from  the  castle  gleamed 
abroad  over  the  snowy  landscape,  and  below  from  the 
houses  in  the  town  many  a  prayer  ascended  for  the 
kindly,  compassionate  sovereign  now  on  her  death-bed. 

His  Highness  was  pacing  the  antechamber  to  and 
fro,  now  and  then  pausing  to  glance  into  his  wife's 
bedroom.  All  at  once  a  low  voice  spoke :  "  Adalbert, 
has  Claudine  gone?"  The  young  wife  noiselessly  ap- 
proached her  friend.  "  You  are  still  here  ?"  the  Duch- 
ess asked. 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  ,553 

"  Let  me  stay  with  you,  Elizabeth,"  Claudine  begged. 
"Lothar  has  so  much  to  arrange  before  I  can  go  to 
Neuhaus." 

The  Duchess  smiled  feebly :  "  You  do  not  know  how 
to  lie,  Claudine;  I  know  why  you  are  staying.  Poor 
child,  what  a  melancholy  marriage!  Call  Adalbert. 
Is  Helena  there  ?" 

The  Princess  came  and  stood  close  beside  Claudine. 

"Take  each  other's  hands,"  the  Duchess  entreated. 

Princess  Helena  grasped  the  hand  extended  to  her. 
"  Forgive  me,"  she  whispered,  with  tears. 

"  And  now  call  Adalbert." 

He  came  and  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  bed.  She 
mutely  pressed  his  hands  when  he  fervently  implored 
her  forgiveness. 

"  If  I  could  only  live  to  comfort  you,  my  poor  Adal- 
bert 1"  she  whispered.  "  It  is  so  hard, — renunciation, — 
I  know  it.  But — they  loved  each  other,  and  you — you 
have  nothing!  Ah,  if  I  had  the  power,  how  happy 
you  should  be !" 

"  Do  not  talk  so,"  said  he.  "  I  shall  be  unhappy,  my 
Liesel,  only  if  you  leave  me." 

"  Say  '  my  Liesel'  once  more,"  she  begged,  and  as  she 
looked  at  him  her  eyes,  that  had  wellnigh  dimmed  in 
death,  gleamed  with  the  old  fervent  light  of  love. 

"  My  Liesel !"  he  whispered,  in  a  broken  voice. 

She  pressed  his  hand.  "  Now  go,  Adalbert.  I  want 
to  sleep.  I  am  so  tired.  Kiss  the  children  ; — go !"  she 
insisted. 

And  she  fell  asleep. 

The   wife  of  a  few  hours   sat  faithfully  watching 

beside  her.      Once  only  invincible  fatigue   seemed  tc 

weigh  down  her  eyelids  for  a  second, — it  could  hardly 

have  been  more;   she  roused  herself  with  a  shiver. 

x  30* 


354  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

The  Duchess  lay  there  strangely  still,  with  folded  hands 
and  a  smile  upon  her  lips. 

Claudine  took  her  hand.  "  Elizabeth !"  she  said 
aloud,  in  distress. 

Her  call  was  unheard. 

The  Princess  approached  and  sank  down  beside  the 
bed  sobbing.  And  the  Duke  came,  and  the  physician, 
and  the  old  lady-in-waiting. 

It  was  so  quiet,  so  oppressively  quiet,  in  the  gorgeous 
room. 

Then  all  left  it  save  the  Duke  and  Claudine.  They 
sat  beside  the  dead,  and  through  the  open  windows  of 
the  next  room  floated  in  the  deep  tones  of  the  church- 
bells  announcing  to  the  land  on  this  cold,  dark  winter 
morning  that  its  Princess  was  sleeping  the  eternal  sleep. 


Hepaticas  were  blossoming  in  the  garden  at  the 
Owl's  Nest,  and  crocuses  were  peeping  out  of  the  black 
earth.  Old  Heinemann  was  working  away  at  his  rose- 
bushes, stripping  them  of  their  winter  coverings  and 
tying  them  to  green  rods.  The  noonday  sun  had  been 
hot  upon  the  old  grave-stones,  and  the  young  leaves 
were  stirring  in  their  sheaths,  longing  for  light  and 
air. 

The  old  man  was  doubly  busy  to-day ;  he  had  asked 
for  leave  of  absence  on  the  morrow,  to  go  to  Altenstein 
to  be  present  at  his  grand-daughter's  marriage  to  her 
former  lover. 

Behind  the  bright  window-panes  appeared  Fraulein 
Lindenmeyer's  kindly  face;  sometimes  she  turned  to- 
wards the  interior  of  the  room  to  speak  to  Ida,  who 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  355 

was  there  arranging  linen.  Ida  was  established  here 
now,' by  the  desire  of  young  Frau  von  Gerold,  who  was 
to  remove  to  Neuhaus.  When  ?  No  one  knew ;  the 
Herr  Baron  was  away,  and  his  young  wife  was  still  in 
deep  mourning  for  the  Duchess. 

Claudine's  small  feet  were  strangely  restless  to-day. 
She  had  been  through  the  entire  house  with  jingling 
keys;  had  looked  over  every  chest  and  linen-press; 
had  inspected  the  master's  wardrobe  and  that  of  the 
child ;  had  made  up  her  household  accounts  and  ar- 
ranged for  its  future  expenses.  She  shook  her  head  at 
her  own  unrest :  she  could  not  understand  it ;  she  could 
not  collect  her  wits  sufficiently  to  write,  nor  could  she 
compose  herself  for  the  hour  at  the  piano  to  which  she 
usually  looked  forward  with  such  pleasure.  At  last 
she  decided  it  would  be  best  to  take  a  walk.  Moreover, 
she  had  not  seen  Beata  nor  the  little  one  at  Neuhaus 
for  a  couple  of  days ;  she  would  go  there ;  Beata  might 
know  something  more  of  Lothar's  plans :  by  the  last 
accounts  he  was  in  Italy. 

By  Claudine's  desire,  they  had  not  written  to  each 
other.  "  We  can  tell  each  other  everything,"  she  had 
said,  entreatingly,  "and  it  will  be  so  much  more  de- 
lightful. I  can  hear  from  Beata  that  you  are  well,  and 
of  where  you  are." 

She  put  on  her  wrap,  tied  a  lace  kerchief  over  her 
head,  and  went  up  to  say  'good-bye'  to  Joachim. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?"  he  asked. 

"  To  see  Beata,  Joachim." 

He  had  risen,  and  was  looking  at  her  affectionately. 
"  How  soon  you  will  be  going  away  to  stay!"  said  he. 

"  When  I  think  of  forsaking  you  at  some  future  day 
t  seem  to  myself  perfectly  faithless." 

"  Oh,  my  darling,  you  cannot  dream  of  how  glad  I 


356  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

am  to  know  you  happy!"  And  he  went  with  her  tc 
the  garden  gate.  "  Are  you  going  alone  ?" 

"I  am  not  afraid,  Joachim."  She  turned  him  back, 
and  went  away  silently.  Twilight  was  beginning  to 
reign  beneath  the  trees ;  clouds  were  flying  swiftly 
across  the  skies,  but  the  wind  driving  them  was  mild 
and  tender;  it  waved  back  the  veil  from  the  young 
wife's  forehead,  and  bent  the  budding  boughs  towards 
one  another ;  it  swept  over  the  new  grass  on  the  edge 
of  the  path,  and  told  of  coming  glories,  of  the  splen- 
dour of  blossoms  and  sunshine.  She  hurried  on  as  fleet 
and  light  of  foot  as  if  she  had  had  wings,  looking  down 
for  a  while  at  the  sparkling  brook  beside  her,  which 
was  carrying  away  the  last  snow-water  from  the 
mountains,  and  anon  up  into  the  clouds  above  her, 
while  smiles  from  time  to  time  replaced  the  earnest 
expression  on  her  fair  face.  Once  she  said  half  aloud, 
"  What  if  he  were  there !" 

At  the  entrance  of  the  Neuhaus  park  she  paused ; 
the  breeze  was  rustling  the  boughs  of  the  lindens  in 
the  avenue,  and  the  castle  lay  dark  and  quiet.  For  an 
instant  maidenly  timidity  stayed  her  steps ;  blushing, 
and  with  her  heart  beating,  she  leaned  against  the 
stone  gate-post,  not  venturing  to  set  foot  inside  the 
garden.  Again  she  thought,  "  What  if  he  were  here  I" 
No  one  had  perceived  her  as  yet ;  that  was  well !  She 
suddenly  felt  as  though  she  must  turn  and  go  back. 

On  the  instant  she  withdrew  among  the  trees  on  one 
Bide  :  a  horseman  was  riding  rapidly  along  the  avenue. 
She  recognized  him  in  spite  of  the  gathering  darkness; 
she  knew  whither  he  was  riding,  and  a  sensation  of 
inexpressible  bliss  possessed  her.  But  he  must  riot  see 
her.  Then  she  gave  a  low  cry, — Lothar's  setter,  which 
had  been  leaping  wildly  about  his  horse,  had  recognized 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  357 

her  and  rushed  towards  her.  The  next  instant  the 
horse  was  reined  in,  and  the  rider  flung  himself  out  of 
the  saddle  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms.  "At  lastl"  he 
said.  "It  is  you!  thanks!  thanks!" 

She  could  not  reply :  she  was  crying.  Then,  as  they 
slowly  walked  towards  the  house,  she  found  voice  to 
say,  "I  felt  that  you  were  here,  Lothar.  When  did 
you  come  ?" 

"  Fifteen  minutes  ago,  my  love." 

"Where  were  you  going?"  she  asked,  with  a  smile 
that  became  wonderfully  well  her  earnest,  lovely  face. 

"  To  you,  Claudine,"  he  replied,  simply. 

Again  she  smiled  blissfully :  "  Now  I  must  tell  you, 
Lothar,  how  I  have  always  loved  you.  God  be  thanked 
for  inclining  your  heart  to  me  I" 

"  Inclining  my  heart  to  you  ?"  he  said,  with  emotion. 
"  I  have  loved  you  from  the  day  when  I  saw  you  so 
unexpectedly  in  the  Dowager  Duchess's  rooms.  Do 
you  remember,  you  sang  Mozart's  '  Yiolet'  ?" 

"  And  after  that,  '  Wilt  thou  but  be  mine  own.'  Do 
I  remember?  But,  Lothar,  if  you  loved  me  then " 

"  Ah,  do  not  ask,  Claudine ;  such  a  wretched,  gloomy 
time  lies  between  now  and  then, — years  of  more  suffer- 
ing than  I  can  speak  of." 

She  was  silent,  and  looked  up  to  the  clouds  again, 
clinging  closer  to  his  arm.  The  dog  walked  beside  her, 
and  behind  them  came  the  horse,  led  by  the  bridle  in 
Lothar's  hand. 

"  One  thing  more,"  she  whispered,  timidly,  looking 
up  into  his  face.  "  Lothar,  if  you  loved  me,  why  did 
you  hurt  me  whenever  you  could  by  such  harsh,  unkind 
words,  humiliating  me  so  in  my  own  eyes  that  I  was 
wellnigh  driven  to  despair?" 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  smile:  "  Oh,  child,  because 


358  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

I  was  tormented  by  distress  and  jealousy,  because  my 
heart  was  sick  with  longing  for  you,  and  because  I 
saw  what  was  coming;  because  I  knew  the  world  and 
its  vileness,  and  knew  how  you  would  be  crushed  when 
slander  and  calumny  assailed  you ;  because  you,  obsti 
nate  child  that  you  were,  made  it  so  desperately  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  watch  over  you ;  and,  finally,  because 
you  would  not  understand  me.  Hush,  hush,  Claudine  ; 
those  times  lie  far  behind  us.  I  have  you  now,  and  I 
may  care  for  you  and  guard  you  in  the  future.  Thank 
God !" 

"  Thank  God  1"  she  repeated,  gently. 

The  horse  walked  off  alone,  with  a  hanging  head, 
to  the  stables;  the  pair  walked  up  the  hall  steps  to- 
gether. Baron  Gerold  opened  the  door.  "  Enter  your 
house,  Claudine,"  he  said,  with  emotion  ;  "  it,  and  not 
the  outside  world,  shall  be  our  home,  if  you  wish." 

She  laughed  amid  tears :  "  If  I  wish  ?  Do  you  not 
trust  me  yet  ?  I  wish  for  nothing  more  in  all  this 
world." 


Three  years  have  passed.  In  Joachim's  study,  on  a 
winter  evening,  in  the  twilight,  sits  Frau  Beata,  talking 
with  her  husband. 

"  Where  is  Elizabeth?"  asked  he. 

"  Dear  heart,  you  grow  more  absent-minded  every 
day !  Where  should  she  be  but  at  Neuhaus,  of  course  ? 
She  really  cannot  live  without  her  aunt  Claudine,  and 
she  coaxed  me  until  I  sent  her  over  there  with  Heine- 
mann.  It  is  so  lovely  in  the  Neuhaus  nursery,  and 
anything  as  sweet  as  Claudine's  baby  never  was  seen. 
She  ought  to  be  at  home  again  soon." 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  359 

"Have  you  read  the  paper  to-day?"  she  asked,  after 
awhile.  "No?  Then  you  have  missed  a  deal  of  news. 
Let  me  tell  you,  Joachim.  First,  the  report  of  the  be- 
trothal of  our  Duke  to  the  Princess  Helena  is  con- 
firmed. I  am  very  glad  of  it,  Joachim,  for,  with  all 
her  waywardness,  the  girl  is  good  at  heart.  She  was  so 
devoted  to  the  Duchess  at  Cannes,  and  she  cannot  do 
enough  for  Claudine  to  show  her  contrition.  I  am 
quite  sure  that  her  marriage  will  not  be  one  of  passion, 
for  she  has  not,  I  suspect,  yet  forgotten  Lothar ;  she 
will  marry  the  Duke  because  she  will  think  it  her  duty." 

"  I  hope  she  will  make  the  Duke  happy,"  Joachim 
Baid,  contentedly;  "  it  is  terribly  dreary  to  live  without 
kindly  eyes  to  look  into  and  a  tender  hand  to  clasp." 
He  took  his  wife's  hand  and  kissed  it. 

Frau  Beata  laughed,  the  same  fresh,  silvery  laughter 
that  had  once  scattered  his  ideas ;  she  had  forgotten 
the  short,  hard  laugh  she  formerly  sometimes  indulged 
in.  He  cannot  understand  how  he  could  ever  stigma- 
tize as  '  barbarous'  any  one  with  so  childlike  and  warm 
a  heart.  He  confessed  his  fault  to  her  on  one  occasion. 
She  only  laughed  heartily  and  said,  "  I  am  not  good 
for  much  save  housekeeping,  and  you  looked  down 
upon  me  from  your  mental  heights;  but  I  liked  you 
dearly  then,  you  and  your  poems,  and  I  hungered 
then  for  something  to  beautify  existence.  But  no  one 
thought  it  of  me.  And  so  I  became  a  very  demon 
of  housekeeping." 

Some  such  thoughts  fill  her  mind  now ;  she  sits  for 
a  while  as  in  a  revery,  then  rouses  herself  with,  "  Thank 
God,  that's  all  past.  Listen,  Joachim."  She  goes  on 
with  her  news :  "  The  paper  reports  that  Lothar  has 
bought  back  Altenstein,  and  the  sapient  reporter  says, 
'  Probably  Baron  Gerold  wishes  in  the  future  to  endow 


360  THE   OWL'S  NEST. 

his  second  son,  born  a  few  months  ago,  with  the  ances- 
tral home  of  his  family.  In  the  mean  time,  we  hear, 
the  castle  will  be  occupied  by  Joachim  von  Gerold,  to 
whom  it  formerly  belonged.1  How  wise  people  are ! 
We  never  shall  do  that,  Joachim ;  you  cannot  persuade 
me  to  leave  the  Owl's  Nest  j  I  have  been  and  am  too 
happy  here." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  he  said,  hastily,  "  we  will  stay  here, 
Beata ;  we  have  quite  room  enough  since  the  addition 
was  made,  and  it  is  so  quiet  and  peaceful.  I  hope  the 
Neuhausers  are  not  thinking  of  asking  us  to  move?" 

"  Heaven  forbid,  Joachim  !  They  are  thinking  of 
nothing  save  themselves,"  said  Beata,  gayly.  "  I  mean 
no  reproach  ;  are  we  any  better  ?  Do  you  know,  dear 
heart,  that  to-day  is  the  anniversary  of  our  betrothal  ?" 
she  chattered  on.  "  Ah,  see  how  you  forget  everything ! 
Yes,  two  years  ago  to-day  we  were  sitting  at  Eliza- 
beth's bedside;  the  crisis  had  just  passed,  and  we  knew 
the  child's  sleep  was  the  first  step  towards  recovery. 
And  we  whispered  together  of  death  and  of  immor- 
tality. You  read  me  the  poem  you  had  written  after 
your  wife's  death,  and  said  how  lonely  you  were  with 
Claudine  away,  and  how  forsaken  the  child  was — 
and " 


"  And  then  I  asked  you,  Beata " 

"And  I  said  'yes.'" 

"  And  then  I  learned  who  it  was  that  had  secretly 
bought  in  my  library  for  me." 

"  I  certainly,"  she  said,  with  a  laugh,  "  always  had  a 
perilous  sympathy  with  the  dreamer,  the  most  unprac- 
tical, helpless  mortal  on  God's  earth."  She  kissed  him 
and  took  up  her  basket  of  keys.  "  I  must  pay  old  Frau- 
lein  Lindenmeyer  a  visit,"  she  said,  by  way  of  excuse 
for  leaving  him ;  "  she  wants  to  see  me,  and  she  sita 


THE  OWL'S  NEST.  361 

there  BO  patiently  in  her  arm-chair — good  old  creature 
— knitting  socks  for  Claudine's  children.  She  must, 
have  a  chest-full  by  this  time." 

As  she  goes  down-stairs  the  hall  door  is  flung  open, 
and  a  child,  a  girl,  comes  running  in,  loosening  her  hold 
of  Heinemann's  hand  to  fly  to  meet  the  smiling  figure 
that  pauses  in  the  hall  and  catches  the  child  in  her 
arms. 

"  Little  romp  1"  she  says,  with  maternal  pride,  taking 
the  rosy,  childish  face  between  her  hands.  "  Was  it 
delightful  at  Aunt  Claudine's,  little  daughter?  What 
did  you  play?  And  was  Uncle  Lothar  at  home?" 

"  Yes ;  but  Uncle  Lothar  was  angry,  and  so  was  Aunt 
Claudine,"  the  child  said,  with  a  troubled  glance  at 
Heinemann. 

The  old  man  had  taken  off  his  hat,  upon  which  flakes 
of  the  first  winter  snow-storm  were  glistening,  and  was 
shaking  it. 

"  Were  they  not,  Heinemann  ?"  the  child  asked,  in 
some  distress. 

"  Oh,  they  had  a  terrible  quarrel !"  the  old  fellow  said, 
with  a  sly  twinkle  in  his  eye  as  he  glanced  at  Frau 
Beata;  "  and  before  me,  too.  Just  as  I  came  in  to  put 
on  our  child's  cloak,  because  the  sleigh  was  waiting, 
the  Baron  said,  '  You  will  put  on  your  grandest  gown, 
Claudine,  and  go  with  me  to  the  capital  to  his  High- 
ness's  wedding.  I  should  like  to  see  if  I  can  still  be 
jealous,' — that's  what  he  said." 

"And  then,"  the  littte  girl  interposed,  "Aunt  Clau- 
dine was  sad,  and  said,  '  As  you  please,  Lothtxr.'  " 

"  Of  course!"  the  old  man  assented.  "And  then  it 
all  began.  '  No,  as  you  please,'  cried  the  Herr  Baron. 
'No,  just  as  you  say,  Lothar.'  'No,  you  are  right, 
Dina;  what  should  we  do  there?  We  will  stay  at 

Q  31 


362  THE  OWL'S  NEST. 

home.'  <  But  suppose  I  want  to  go,  Lothar  ?'  '  Oh, 
I  know  you,  Dina ;  we  shall  stay  here.'  And  so  they 
went  on  quarrelling,  madame,  until  at  last " 

'•  Well  ?"  Beata  interrupted  him,  "  which  of  them  was 
victorious  ?" 

"  The  one  who  always  conquers,  madame,  when  mar- 
ried people  quarrel.  The  Frau  Baroness,  of  course. 
She  sends  a  great  deal  of  love  to  madame,  and  on  the 
day  when  our  Duke  marries  she  invites  the  Herr  Baron 
and  herself  to  come  over  to  the  Owl's  Nest  to  have  a 
cup  of  tea  and  to  talk  over  old  times." 


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